#9 Inch display
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kayhanaudio2 · 8 months ago
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Kayhan Audio SatNav for the Hyundai Sonata 2018 V6 features a sleek 9-inch touchscreen, offering GPS navigation with real-time traffic updates. It includes Bluetooth, USB, and Wi-Fi connectivity for seamless media streaming, hands-free calling, and app access. With a high-resolution display and user-friendly interface, it enhances your driving experience with modern convenience and style. Website:
https://kayhanaudio.com.au/product/satnav-for-hyundai-sonata-2018-9-inch/
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dailydoseoffunblogs · 5 months ago
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MSI Katana A17 AI 17.3" 240Hz QHD Gaming Laptop: Ryzen 9-8945HS
Gadgets and Home Essentials may earn a commission. You incur no extra cost when you buy through links on our site. I’ve been waiting for the MSI Katana A17 AI to arrive. It’s a gaming laptop that promises top performance. I’m excited to see how it does in real gaming. It has a 17.3-inch QHD display and a 240Hz refresh rate. Plus, it’s powered by the AMD Ryzen 9 8945HS processor. This laptop…
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caraudioexpertaustralia0 · 5 months ago
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Headunit With Carplay for Jeep Wrangler | 2018 | 9″ Inch
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pawstriez · 8 months ago
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“YES MA’AM? . . MORE LIKE YES MOMMY ! ” | jjk + aot
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⟡ tags : sukuna + toji + gojo + nanami — a compilation of your favs and how they submit to you . . . content includes positions such as rimming, begging, thigh humping, handjob, blowjob, overstim??, size kink, bondage, pet names used ‘bby, pretty boy, mommy,’ etc. MDNI 19+ 8.0K WC
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SUKUNA | bondage + slight handjob + cunninlingus
“oi, princess — gonna’ sit there all night or get this shit over with already?” sukuna questions you, who’s sitting rather delightfully for someone who knew damn well they were in a work of trouble after all this was over with, and as much as he would’ve loved to be the one to end this little power trip you were on, there were some . . obstacles in the way.
to name a few of those said obstacles : the infamous king was currently in a little bit of a knot, muscles on display as his usual mischievous smirk was now being replaced by a rather adorable scowl. his strong arms were bound behind his back, ropes digging into his skin all over — and oh! his thick dick, around 9-ish inches, standing proud and tall against his stomach, thumping every time you came near him. you knew he hated this - more than anything, but to see him surrendering, succumbing to you and only you . .
it was definitely something you’d take a few extra spanks to the ass for later.
“my, my . . don’t go gettin’ all bossy on me, kuna. are you forgetting who’s in charge?” you whisper near his ear, moving a hand to stroke his shaft slowly. you were like a shark scenting blood in water the way your hand began to move in circles, “look at you . .”
his eyes flashed with indignation even as his cock jumped at your words, flushed and leaking against his chiseled abdomen. “i should tear you from limb to limb for this — just for the fun of it, really.”
you chuckled darkly, fisting a hand in his hair and yanking his head back. “you should . . but you won’t. right? because deep down, you want to submit to me, don’t you, sukuna? wanna’ be brought to heel, made to beg and plead for release . .”
he snarled wordlessly but didn't deny it, straining against his bonds. you could see the conflict in his eyes, immense pride warring with dark, forbidden desire. slowly, testing, you trailed your fingers down his heaving chest, once again skimming teasingly light over his throbbing erection. he twitched, a strangled groan escaping through his gritted teeth. “just give in,” you coaxed silkily, cupping his heavy sack, rolling it in your palm. “surrender to me and i’ll make you feel so good, better than you ever imagined . .”
he glared up at you from the chair, mutinously but you could feel his resolve crumbling. grinding his jaw, he gave a single, jerky nod. triumph and dark arousal surged through you. the king of curses, deadly and proud, was yours to command.
unhurriedly, you stripped off your thin robe and kicked it aside. his corvine eyes raked over your bare form, pupils blown with lust. “open,” you instructed, stepping close and fisting his hair again. obediently, he parted his lips, letting you guide his face to your aching center.
the first hot swipe of his tongue between your folds made you gasp and shudder. he lapped at you again, more firmly, clearly savoring your taste. “that’s it,” you praised breathlessly, grinding against his face. “finally put that mouth to good use, make me drip all over you, yeah?”
he snarled into your cunt, tongue delving deeper, flicking over your throbbing clit. you keened, yanking at his hair as shocks of pleasure radiated through you. he licked and sucked voraciously, making obscene wet sounds as he ate you out. the fact that he was just about on his damn knees, servicing you, nearly undid you all on its own. “f-fuck, kuna,” you whined, head thrown back as he tongue-fucked your entrance, rubbing his nose against your clit. “jus’ like that, don’t stop, gonna’ c-cum, baby . .”
he moaned into you, doubling his efforts, devouring your cunt like a man starved. your thighs shook, stomach tightening as you hurtled towards your peak. you felt his teeth graze your clit and you shattered with a sharp cry, gushing into his eager mouth as you came — and he lapped up every drop, working you through the aftershocks until you had to push his head away, too sensitive. panting, you looked down at him, taking in his glossy, slick chin and wild, feverish eyes. “such a good boy,” you purred, thumbing over his wet, swollen lips. “i think you’ve earned a reward . .”
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TOJI | blowjob + handcuffs lol :3
“color?” you checked as you finished securing toji’s cuffs to the headboard, sitting back to survey your handiwork.
“green,” he rasped immediately, testing the bonds. they held fast, keeping him splayed beneath you, entirely at your mercy. “very fuckin’ green.”
you smiled, trailing light fingers down his chest, teasing his dusky nipples. “good. y’know what to say if it gets to be too much.”
he shook his head stubbornly even as he arched into your touch with a bitten-off groan. “won’t need to. i can take anything you dish out.”
“mhmm, we’ll see about that,” you mused, pinching and tugging at his sensitive nubs until he was writhing. “by the time m’ done, you’ll be all fucked out.”
he shuddered, cock twitching where it lay thick and flushed against his abs, leaking steadily. “do your worst, sweetheart,” he goaded, eyes sparking challenge. grinning fiercely, you set about taking him apart with hands and mouth, mapping every ridge and valley of his powerful body. you traced the v cut of his hips with your tongue, mouthed teasingly at his inner thighs, ghosted hot breath over his aching cock. he cursed and bucked beneath you, muscles bunching and straining uselessly against the metal cuffs as you worked him into a frenzy.
“oh god . . fuck, [ ★ ], please,” he finally burst out as you lapped kitten-ishly at his weeping cockhead. “s-stop teasin’ me, baby!”
“i told you you’d beg, didn’t i?” you asked smugly, swirling your tongue around his throbbing cock. “ask me nicely for what you want, toji. maybe i’ll give it to you . .”
he threw his head back with a tortured groan, tendons standing out in stark relief as he fought his body's demands. “please,” he grated out. “please suck my cock. i need your mouth on me so bad —” you cut him off by swallowing him down to the hilt in one swift motion, nose nestling in his wiry curls. “a-agh, fuck!” he shouted, hips jerking instinctively, trying to fuck into your tight, wet throat. you held his bucking hips down easily, working him hard and fast, just the way he liked.
“fuck, baby, y-yes,” he babbled, head thrashing on the pillow. “god, your mouth, so fuckin’ good t’me . . m’not gonna’ last like this.”
you pulled off long enough to rasp out, “then don’t. i want to taste you, want you to come for me,” before sinking back down on him, humming around his thickness. toji cried out brokenly as his orgasm crashed into him, pulsing hot and bitter over your tongue. you worked him through it greedily, milking him until he was twitching and gasping from the intensity. when you finally released him, he was flushed and glassy - eyed, chest heaving as he came down.
“told you i could take it,” he slurred, a loopy half-smile tugging at his lips.
“aww, baby,” you whispered wickedly, crawling up his body to hover over him. “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”
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SATORU | rimming + toru calls you mommy
“tell me what you want,” you murmured as you trailed open-mouthed kisses down satoru’s quivering tummy, fingertips skimming teasingly light over his trembling inner thighs. “i’ll give you anything, everything, jus’ tell me . .”
he whined low in his throat, hips canting up needily as you breathed hot over his rigid cock, lips a mere whisper from his fevered skin. “please, [★], i need . .” he babbled, voice high and thready with desperation. “i need you inside me, opening me up, fucking m-me deep. please, please, please . .”
“shhh, i’ve got you love,” you soothed, pressing a kiss to his dripping cockhead even as you circled a slick finger around his fluttering rim. “jus’ relax for me, let me take care of you, honey.” — and he did, head lolling back and thighs falling open wantonly as you carefully breached him, sinking your finger into his clutching hole. he was so soft and smooth inside, muscles gripping your digit hungrily as you started a gentle in and out rhythm.
his cock twitched and leaked against his belly, untouched, as you worked him open reverently, carefully adding a second finger when he was pliant enough. he moaned brokenly, bearing down on the stretch and burn, greedy for more. “y-yes, like that,” he panted, hands fisting in the sheets. “fuck, it feels so good, mommy . .”
“i know, i know . . you’re such a good boy, huh? letting me touch you like this, letting me relax you,” you coo, and on that note, you twisted your wrist, crooking your fingers just right, and satoru jolted like he’d been nearly electrocuted, a ragged shout tearing from his throat.
“t-there!” he cried out, back arching clear off the mattress. “oh fuck, [★], right there, please!” you aimed for that spot mercilessly, milking his prostate with every push and pull of your hand. he was babbling wordlessly now, head thrashing on the pillow, legs shaking and stomach muscles fluttering as his pleasure mounted.
you knew he was close when his cock started to twitch and jerk against his belly, drooling copiously. anticipation coiled hot and tight in your gut as you fingered him faster, pressing hard on that secret bundle of nerves. “c’mon, toru,” you coaxed breathlessly, transfixed by the erotic sight of him. “let go for me, cum on mommy’s fingers.”
satoru does as he’s told, back bowing nearly in half as his orgasm ripped through him with a strangled cry of your name. hot ropes of pearly cum striped his chest and abs as he pulsed and clenched rhythmically around your fingers, milking them for all he was worth. you gentled him through the aftershocks, drawing out his pleasure until he was boneless and trembling, floating in post orgasmic bliss.
slowly, you withdrew your fingers, ignoring his whimper of loss. “you did so well,” you praised, kissing his slack, parted lips. “my perfect boy. think you can get it up for me one more time? wanna’ feel it splitting me open . .”
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NANAMI | face sitting + he rides your thigh
nanami knelt naked and trembling, lean muscles pulled taut in anticipation as he waited for your next command. his hard, flushed cock jutted proudly from between his powerful thighs, dripping steadily onto the carpet. you’d been teasing him for what felt like hours, keeping him on a razor’s edge of pleasure and pain, never quite letting him find relief in any way at all.
“baby,” he finally rasped, voice scraped raw from begging. “please, [★], i need you.”
“mm-mm, tell me, kento,” you demanded, pacing around his kneeling form slowly. “tell me exactly what you need.”
he shuddered bodily, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “i-i need to cum, please, i’ll do anything, just let me cum — i can’t take anymore . .”
“hmmm.” you pretended to consider, though arousal simmered molten in your veins at his desperate plea. “you beg so pretty, baby. maybe . . maybe you’ve earned it, whaddo’ya say?”
“y-yeah, yes, yes,” he babbled, hope and relief suffusing his handsome face. “i’ll be so good for you, i swear, just tell me what you want from me -”
“your mouth,” you interrupted, fisting a hand in his hair and tugging his head back, baring the strong column of his throat. “i wanna’ ride your face til’ i cum, paint you in me. and if you do a good job, i’ll let you hump my thigh like the desperate slut you are until you make a mess all over both of us. how does that sound?”
“absolutely fucking perfect,” he breathed, pupils blown wide and dark with need. “anything, i want to taste you, wanna’ be soaked in you, sweetheart . .” you didn’t need to hear much further, moaning low in your throat, you sank down fully, your fingers weaving into his thick hair as smothered his face between your thighs. he immediately sealed his hot mouth over your dripping sex, lapping at you broad and greedy. you cried out sharply, hips rocking into the perfect pressure, luxuriating in the wet sounds of his enthusiasm.
he licked deep into your core, nose nudging your throbbing clit, hitting all your most sensitive spots with unerring accuracy. familiar heat started coiling deep in your belly as he worked you relentlessly, taking you apart with lips and tongue and just a hint of teeth.
“oh fuck, kento, s’ s’good . .” you gasped, grinding shamelessly against his face, chasing your pleasure. “you’re s’good for me, so perfect — m’getting close!”
he groaned into your cunt, doubling his efforts, tongue fluttering hummingbird-quick over your clit as he finger fucked your hungry cunt. your thighs quaked, pressure building to an impossible crescendo deep inside. you were already just seconds from shattering apart. then he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made your vision white out as he sucked hard on your aching nub, and you were gone. completely gone. back arching, breath seizing, you came with a hoarse cry, gushing slick over his face and fingers as exquisite pleasure crashed through you in relentless waves.
he worked you through it, drawing out your peak until you were too sensitive and had to push him away weakly. panting, you looked down at him, his chin and cheeks glazed with your essence, eyes fever-bright as he stared up at you in awe. “was that - was i good?” he croaked, lips and chin shiny with your juices.
“so good,” you assured him, thumbing over his swollen mouth before bringing your slick fingers to your own lips for an indulgent taste. “now come here and take what you need. you've earned it.”
groaning brokenly, he surged up to wrap his arms around your hips desperately, rutting his painfully hard cock against your thigh. you held him steady as he took his pleasure, hips snapping frantically, chasing his long-awaited release.
“that’s it, kento,” you cooed, carding your fingers through his sweaty hair as he panted and mewled into your neck. “fuck my thigh just like that, get it all wet n’ filthy with your cum . .”
his broken sob was muffled against your throat as he finally let go, pulsing hot and messy between your bodies as he came completely untouched. you gentled him through it, murmuring praise and reassurance as he shook and gasped and clutched you like a lifeline.
after long moments, he gradually calmed, breath evening out. you continued to stroke his hair, his back, holding him close in the warm afterglow.
“you did so well, sweet boy,” you murmured into his hair. “took everything i gave you so beautifully. m’ so proud of you.”
he whimpered quietly, nuzzling into your neck. “thank you,” he rasped. “for letting me be good for you. i needed that so much.”
“i know baby.” you pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “you’re always s’good for me. my perfect, pretty boy. now let’s get you cleaned up and into bed. want me to hold you?”
he nodded against your skin, clinging tighter. you smiled, heart full to bursting with affection. seeing him like this - open, vulnerable, trusting you so implicitly - was a gift you’d never stop being grateful for, and one that’d never stop giving.
“i got you, ken,” you promised as you gathered him closer, turning to lead him to bed. “i’ll always take care of you, baby. always.”
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SATORUBI 2024 | pls do not copy, steal, or modify my work !!! happy reading, luv u sluts <3 also tagging my bff @ramonathinks
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scoobywrites690 · 1 month ago
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Something to write....... what about makeup sex with almost ex husband Ghost :9
(I’m so sorry to whoever sent this ask in. You sent it in February and I’ve only just attempted to write something for it 🙈 but I hope you like and if anyone wants to send in any ask please feel free and I’ll hopefully answer them quicker than I did this one 💕)
With your knees touching your chest and your feet at the headboard as Simon plows into you, you find yourself wondering how this situation occurred. From where you were standing your divorce to Simon would be finalized by the end of next week and you’d both be single people again. 
So how is it that your supposed ex husband is now rearranging your insides. His big burly body rocking on top of yours as he bends you in half. Simon had only come over to collect the remainder of his things and so you could both say your final goodbyes, but somehow you both find yourself desperately stripping each other of their clothes.
His grunts and groans fill the room, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin bounce off the bedroom walls. Did it normally feel this good?
You don’t remember it feeling this good, but right now you feel like you’re on cloud nine. The tip of his cock ramming into that spongy spot deep inside of you, making you writher underneath him.
Simon leans back into his heels, his big hands splayed over the backs of your thighs keeping you bent and on display for him. Simon watches your tight little pussy swallow his cock greedily, pushing him out when he buries himself to the hilt, only for him to be sucked back in when he pulls out. He’s intoxicated by it. Your slick little pussy creaming around his cock coating it in your arousal.
Simon's thumb finds your clit and rubs small circles around the bundle of nerves, your clit already puffy and sensitive from previous orgasms causing your hips to buck and your back to arch.
“S-Simon.” You moan. Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, not sounding like your own. “Simon, please.” You beg. You aren’t sure what it is you’re begging for but you can’t stop the word spilling from your mouth. Over and over and over again you chant the words your hips grinding up into Simon’s, wanting more of him. Wanting him deeper. I want him faster. I want him.
“What do you want, mhm?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow.
You reach for him. Your fingertips barely reach his bare shoulders. He was too far, you couldn’t reach. But he’s soon leaning down with his face returning to its spot in the crook of your neck.
“I want you.” You pant out. With your throat sore and mouth dry you’re still able to express what it is that you want. “You, I want you. Just you, please.”
His hips now rolling to meet yours, slow sensual rolls that has every inch of him rubbing against your walls, as he continues to keep you caged underneath him, with your legs still pressed to your chest and your feet to the headboard.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here.” He mumbles. “I’ve got you.” He states.
And it’s the strangest thing ever, because you believe him. Before you got married he always made you feel like he was here, that he loved you. But something happened, something shifted after you were married. And you could never figure out what.
The feel of teeth on your neck has you clenching down around him as he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh, his tongue darting out over the marks he has now left in your skin.
You don’t understand why this passion, this desire for each other has suddenly come back. But it’s hot and it’s burning through the both of you, as you desperately cling to each other’s naked body’s. Clawing at each other’s skin like you’re worried they’ll disappear if you let go.
Simon rises, bringing you up with him flipping you over onto your hands and knees before pressing your face into the mattress. Sliding himself back inside Simon buries himself to the hilt. The new angle has him reaching new depths.
His hands gripping at your hips as he pulls you backwards to meet his thrust. Ramming into you. Hitting that one spot over and over again that has your eyes rolling in your head, your hands clawing at the sheets.
With your stomach knotting up you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. Clenching down around Simon’s cock wanting him, needing him.
“Simon” You call out to him, like he’s not right there behind you. But you need him, you want him closer.
“I’m here, my love.” He says. His mouth now next to your ear as he lays himself on top of your body, his elbows supporting him still so he doesn’t crush you underneath his weight. He continues rutting inside of your poor weeping hole as you cum around his cock, your legs shaking underneath you as his thrusts continue to draw out your release. Simon’s release soon follows pumping you full of his seed.
And after Simon rolls off you and you both lay there panting, trying to catch your breath. Sweat sticking to your skin. Simon reaches out pulling you up to his chest, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your body. Keeping you close.
And in that moment Simon makes a decision with himself then and there. He was never gonna leave you again. Even if you scream and yell telling him to, he wasn’t gonna leave as easily next time.
He was stupid to in the first place but he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 
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fairytaleendingss · 2 months ago
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Room for One More?
Chapter 12
Summary: There's tension in the apartment after you and James become a couple and Remus is dealing with some confusing feelings of his own.
CW: Allusion to sexual activities, Sirius being immature (what else is new, lol?)
Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11
The start of this may have gotten away from me a little bit, lol.
--
Remus was sitting on the sofa, thumbing through a book. It was late in the night, only the soft, golden glow from the lampshade illuminating the space. It was quiet. Almost too quiet.
"What are you still doing up?" a delicate voice echoed from down the hall. Remus looked up to see your figure, standing in the hallway, dressed in a silky black nightgown. You had a somewhat mischievous twinkle in your eye as you gazed down at him.
"I couldn't sleep," he told you cautiously.
He expected you to nod and head into the kitchen for a glass of water or something of that nature, but instead, you took a step towards him.
"Well that's too bad," you muttered, your tone low and a smirk taking hold of your features.
"Although," you continued. "Lucky for me. I've been waiting to get you alone for a while now."
Remus had the heart too look surprised.
"I- huh?"
"That's right," you drawled. "What'dya say? Want to have some fun?"
You dropped your robe then revealing a lacy black teddy underneath, one that hugged your curves and cupped your breasts perfectly.
Remus' eyes widened and he felt his jaw drop open in pure shock as you walked towards him, your hair falling in gentle waves down your shoulders and eyes ablaze with lust. When you reached him, you sat yourself down in his waiting lap, entwining your arms around his neck.
Then, with a passionate moan, you pushed your lips against his, kissing him passionately and with an intense hunger, like your skin was craving his touch.
He found himself kissing you back, his large hands finding their place on your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh desperately.
Then, after a moment, he raked himself away.
"Wait, hold on," he muttered, desperate to feel your lips on his once more but restraining himself in the name of morality. "We can't do this. What about James?"
You looked down at him seductively, your lips swollen, red lipstick smudged across your chin.
"It's okay," you shrugged. "He can join us."
Remus turned his gaze to the right to find James laid out beside him on the couch like a Greek statue, clad in only a pair of grey boxers, chiseled chest on display and exposed to the world.
He reached out, gripping Remus' chin between his fingers and turning the man's head towards him so that their faces were only inches apart.
"Couldn't let you guys have all the fun, could I?" the man murmered, his breath fanning Remus' cheek.
Then, he too pressed their lips together. At the same time, you dug your fingers into the seam of Remus' button up shirt, ripping it open in a swift movement, and running your fingers down his bare chest.
Remus couldn't help but moan against James' lips.
"You like that, handsome?"
Remus pulled away, looking back up at you as another voice rang out through the room. And there was Sirius, positioned behind you, looking down at him over your shoulder, with a hand tangled in your long locks of hair as his own head rested gently in the nape of your neck.
Then, he looked downwards, placing gentle kisses along your collarbone as James began to do the same to him.
"You're in for a treat tonight," James whispered.
--
Remus sat up in bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing. He was disoriented as he looked around the room. The sun had broken in through the crack between his curtains, indicating it was morning.
He shook his head, as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to blink away the memory of the... peculiar dream he'd just had.
He swung his legs over the side if the bed, slowly making his way into the living room in search of a distraction.
He found you in the kitchen, clad in one of James' oversized t-shirts, as you stood over a pan of sizzling eggs.
James was also in the kitchen, clattering around in the cupboards as he prepared a couple of cups of tea. Remus gulped thickly as his eyes raked over James' shirtless torso.
"Ah, Rem, mate!" James exclaimed when his eyes landed on his friend. "We were just making some breakfast. Do you want some?"
He blinked up at James for a moment. "Hm?"
"Do you want some breakfast? or tea?"
"Oh, yes, tea would be great."
Remus took a seat at the kitchen island and ran a hand over his face. He watched as James maneuvered around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
The last few weeks with James had been pure bliss. If James Potter was anything, it was loving and he completely showered you with affection in every way possible.
He took you out on fancy dates and held the door for you, he bathed you in a slew of constant compliments and he always made sure that you never went a day without a fresh bouquet of flowers by your bed. He was the perfect gentleman.
However, despite everything being so wonderful with James, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was... missing? Like everything was almost perfect.
You had no idea what it was and were feeling immensely guilty about feeling it at all. James had been completely wonderful. You did your best to swallow those feelings down, blaming it on the anxiety of being in a fresh relationship. You hoped it would begin to fade with time, as the two of you grew more comfortable together.
"Where's Sirius?" Remus questioned as James placed a mug of tea in front of him.
"Still sleeping, I think," you replied, serving up some scrambled eggs on toast and dishing it up onto two plates for yourself and James. "He had a gig last night. He was out until pretty late."
Speak of the devil, it was at that moment that Sirius made his way into the kitchen, dragging his feet and running a hand through his unruly hair. He had eyeliner smudged down his face, like he'd forgotten to take it off last night before he went to bed.
"Someone's had a good night," James teased, coming up behind you to wrap an arm around your waist where you stood, bent over the bench, eating your breakfast.
"Yeah, ha-ha," Sirius shot back.
Remus raised his brow, noticing the twitch of Sirius' lip as he observed the way that you and James were snuggled up together, all lovey-dovey.
Remus had noticed things were weird between the three of you. The way his gaze lingered on the two of you, his jaw twitching when he looked away.
"We're going to see a movie today. Do either of you want to join us?" James asked and Remus couldn't help but notice the way Sirius grimaced at the offer.
"Sorry, but I've uh- got stuff to do today."
James rolled his eyes. "Stuff meaning going back to bed and sleeping 'till 4pm I presume?"
"You know be too well, mate," Sirius responded.
"Remus, how about you?"
Remus mustered a small smile, drawing his eyes away from where your arm was wrapped around his friend's waist. He did his best to push back memories from his dream.
"I have to study," he lied.
James shrugged. "Alright, suit yourselves. Come on love, let's get ready."
He placed a gentle peck on your lips before the two of you made your exit.
"Blegh," Sirius muttered as he watched you go. "Disgusting."
---
It was late in the afternoon and Remus was sitting on his bed, engulfed in his latest reading endeavor. He hadn't done all that much today apart from drift around the apartment, tidying up a little and watching some random drama show from the early 2000s on TV while he ate his lunch.
Throughout the day, his mind kept drifting back to the dream he'd had the night prior. It was strange. He'd never dreamt anything like it before.
Of course, he'd had a dream here and there about Sirius, especially back when they briefly dated. But a dream about all 3 of his roommates at the same time? It was positively outlandish.
He was broken from his thoughts by a knock at the door.
"Come in, Sirius," he called.
The man was looking better, slightly less disheveled than he had earlier in the day and Remus expected a long afternoon nap and a hot shower to be the source.
He was dressed in tracksuit pants and an old band t-shirt from some concert he'd been to back in high school.
"What are you doing?" He asked, running a hand through his mattered curls.
"What does it look like? I'm reading," Remus responded snarkily.
Sirius chuckled. Then he moved across the room and threw himself down on the bed beside him. Remus tensed at the feeling of Sirius' his pressed against his own, memories from his dream flooding back and making his face flush red.
He cleared his throat, doing his best to act natural.
"There's something I wanted to talk to you about," Sirius muttered.
"And what would that be?"
"Well," he sighed, laying back against the pillows behind him. "It's about James and Y/n. I mean, don't you think it's... weird? That they're together now, I mean."
Remus raised a brow at his friend. "Not particularly. They seem happy."
"But that's sort of the problem," Sirius continued. "They're too happy, it's revolting."
"So you don't want your best friend to be happy?"
"No it's not that," Sirius sighed in frustration, like he wasn't able to find the right words. "I just don't think they need to rub it in our faces so much, you know?"
Remus placed his book down, turning his full attention towards the man beside him.
"Okay, what's really going on here? Are you jealous that James isn't spending as much time with you now that he has a girlfriend?"
Sirius shook his head. "No it's not that. I just- I don't know."
Remus sighed, reaching a hand out to brush a strand of hair behind Sirius' ear before he could stop himself. The action just felt so natural. It reminded of him of how they once were, all those years ago.
"Maybe I'm just jealous of what they have."
There was a pause while the boys sat there in silence. The air in the room was thick with tension as Remus' eyes grazed over Sirius' features. He was impressively beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.
"Do you ever think about us, Remus?"
The words were soft and breathy on Sirius' tongue and Remus' eyes widened as the question hung in the air between them.
After a moment, he sighed. "All the time."
Sirius inhaled sharply, his pink lips parted ever so slightly as he blinked up at his friend with stormy, grey eyes full of yearning. Remus hadn't seen Sirius look at him like that for a long time (or maybe he just hadn't noticed it until now).
"Do you ever think that maybe we made a mistake? Y'know, leaving that behind."
"Honestly? I don't know," Remus responded. And it was the truth.
He could admit, his feelings for Sirius had never truly died but at the same time, they'd been so bad for each other back then. They were stupid immature teenagers. They didn't know how to be there for each other. But they were older now. More mature, more resilient. Things weren't the same as they used to be.
"Do you ever think that we should try again?"
Sirius was leaning into him now, their faces only inches apart. He felt Sirius' breath hot against his skin.
Remus couldn't take it anymore. He leaned forward and kissed him.
--
Taglist:
@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people, @ch4rlotte35, @insideoutjulie, @hiireadstuff, @laniirackssss, @starrystormwritings, @strategicsweetheart, @1800brat, @sammyreid, @frootloops1213, @ill-be-okay-soon-enough, @loveelylani, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @that-gay-person-27, @serenadingtigers, @lily-mylove, @arielthee-potterhead, @treefairy-28, @happycatanxie, @lettertovera, @captainlunaxmen, @ellieshifts3, @marauderslover18, @hidontmindtheintrovert, @spencers1nonlygf, @dearggntlereader, @hermionelove
353 notes · View notes
dollbrbie · 1 day ago
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toji’s favourite camgirl ♡
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oh, you were gorgeous, toji thought. every night he found himself consumed by the white screen of his phone, your pretty figure dressed in a black lacy lingerie set and you face coated with a cheeky smile as you read the comments and tips on your stream.
“okay, okay. enough of me rambling, i know what you guys really want.”, you say as a giggle leaves your perfectly glossy lips, a hand sliding to the strap of your bra, teasingly pulling it down.
and every time, toji feels his clothed cock twitch, palming at it as he watches you slowly undress in front of the camera, hundreds of comments coming through your screen that make toji’s eyes roll.
he never really found himself gravitating towards camgirls, a few videos on the hub usually doing the trick for him. but, as soon as he found you completely by accident, he’s been hooked.
you were definitely younger, a lot younger than him. maybe early twenties? your skin looked so soft and supple, always on display as you touched your body with your pretty hands, edging him like the tease you are.
the way you played with the plush of your tits and the plush of your ass sent toji’s cock sky high, desperate to see what’s underneath that expensive looking lingerie set.
and when you pulled out the bright pink dildo, tapping it’s tip on your pretty clit before sliding your panties to the side, all toji could do was scoff. he was inches bigger than that, he’d actually make you feel good.
pushing the tip against your needy hole after rubbing it against you glossy folds, you let out a gasp from the sensation, feeling yourself sink down as you begin riding the plastic cock for your audience, tips coming through every minute now.
and toji can’t help but fist his cock as he listens to your whines and moans, imagining that it was your pretty pussy tightening around his cock as he watches the way your tits bounce as your pussy takes the dildo completely, a groan coming from his lips as he feels his cock pulsate around his palm.
he needed you.
and he knows you need something better than a six inch dildo, something a real man could give you.
so, with his mind consumed by lust and greed, he finds himself clicking away at the keyboard of his phone, sending you a private message that read:
i know you need something that’s gonna feel better than that pathetic dildo
and i’m right here, baby
[1 image attached]
later that night, an hour or so after ending your stream, you opened the message as your eyes widen from the photo - a well kept cock that looked to be 8/9 inches with a slight curve to the right.
as you nibble the plush of your bottom lip, you can’t help but feel the pads of your thumbs typing up a reply, your already stimulated pussy aching for this mysterious man.
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© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work
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mocharyc · 7 days ago
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Invincible variants x reader Pt. 9✩ ‧ ₊ ˚
Heated tensions turn raw...
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✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ Fractures in the Multiverse‧ ₊ ˚
☆ WC: 6k+ [Part 9] ☆ TW: angst/fluff ☆ Author's Note: I'm so confused... I write stories and read other. Seeing chapters being more popular than others enrages me; authors are always changing important things or storylines just to appeal to consumption?! Ugh, burh I'm stupid and sad, so angst chap coming up.
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The cave pulsed with an unnatural, emerald luminescence, the portal's sickly glow casting long, distorted shadows that danced across the damp, jagged walls like phantoms.
Moisture dripped from stalactites overhead, each droplet catching the eerie light before shattering against the stone floor, their rhythm a discordant counterpoint to the low hum of dimensional energy that vibrated through bone.
Sinister Mark's laughter—deep, guttural, and triumphant—echoed through the cavern, bouncing off wet stone surfaces until it seemed to come from everywhere at once.
He stood with defiant arrogance, holding Y/N possessively against his chest, his powerful arms wrapped around her like living restraints.
The tattered remnants of his yellow and black suit hung from his muscular frame in strategic shreds, barely preserving modesty while flaunting evidence of what had transpired. Where fabric had been torn away, glimpses of Y/N's flushed skin beneath told a story more damning than words.
"Too late, boys~" he purred, each syllable dripping with venomous satisfaction. His black eyes gleamed predatory and victorious.
"As you can see, she's made her choice."
Y/N's heart hammered violently against her ribcage, the sound deafening in her own ears. Heat spread across her cheeks and down her neck in crimson waves, a visceral mixture of lingering passion and crushing humiliation.
She couldn't bear to meet the eyes of the variants who had searched for her—couldn't face their judgment, their hurt, their rage. Instead, she buried her face against Sinister's neck, inhaling his scent of leather, blood, and something uniquely him.
Mohawk Mark was the first to break the suffocating silence. His entire body convulsed with barely contained fury—veins bulging at his temples like blue ropes beneath his skin, the distinctive blue and black of his suit seeming to vibrate with his rage.
His mohawk bristled as though electrified, adding inches to his already imposing height. When he moved, it was with explosive violence, muscles coiling beneath his suit like springs wound too tight.
"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" The words tore from his throat with such force that spittle flew from his lips, glistening in the emerald light.
His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, knuckles white beneath his gloves. "We agreed! We fucking agreed she wasn't going to be—" The words choked off, as if the magnitude of Sinister's betrayal had physically strangled him.
Behind him, the other variants formed a semicircle of frozen fury and shock, each face—so similar yet distinctly different—displaying its own shade of devastation and rage.
Omni Mark stepped forward, his movement smooth and controlled, a stark contrast to Mohawk's explosive anger. His red and gray suit absorbed the portal's light, making him appear like a shadow given form. Unlike the others, his face remained eerily composed, but a muscle twitched almost imperceptibly at his jaw—the only outward sign of the calculated violence brewing beneath his calm exterior. His eyes, partially hidden behind dark lenses, assessed the situation with precision.
"Put. Her. Down." Each word fell from his lips like a shard of ice, precise and deadly. Though his voice was quiet, it cut through the tension with razor-sharpness that made even Sinister's smile falter for a fraction of a second.
Viltrumite Mark stood slightly apart from the others, his pristine white suit gleaming unnaturally in the portal's glow. The imperial symbol on his chest seemed to pulse with its own light, casting strange patterns across his face.
Out of all the variants now, he appeared the most composed, but his eyes—cold and commanding—burned with a mixture of concern and barely contained fury.
"Y/N," he called, his voice gentler than the others, though no less intense. "Are you harmed? Did he force you?" The question hung in the air, loaded with implications that made Y/N's stomach twist into knots.
Sinister chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into Y/N's body where they remained intimately joined. The subtle movement drew a small, involuntary gasp from her lips—a sound that seemed to echo through the cavern, condemning her more effectively than any confession.
"Force her?" Sinister's mouth curved into a predatory smile, teeth gleaming white against his shadowed face. "Why don't you ask her yourself? Tell them, dove. Tell them how you begged for it."
Y/N's head snapped up, mortification washing over her in a scalding wave. "I—I didn't—" she stammered, her voice small and fragile in the vast, echoing space. But the words died on her lips as she met the hurt and fury warring across the variants' faces.
Phantom Mark moved forward, his fully masked face hiding his expression, but his body language spoke volumes. His shoulders hunched as if bearing a physical weight, hands trembling slightly at his sides. "Y/N," he said, his voice raw with emotion even through the mask's filter. "We searched for you. We tortured Angstrom until he opened the portal. We thought you were in danger."
Each word struck Y/N like a physical blow. Behind Phantom, she could see Emperor Mark's regal bearing, his posture rigid with disdain as he assessed the scene. Beside him, No-Mask Mark's unmasked face displayed every emotion with painful clarity—hurt, betrayal, disappointment cycling across features so familiar yet uniquely his own.
From the back of the group, Prisoner Mark gave a harsh bark of laughter, the sound grating against the stone walls. The scarred tissue of his burned face caught the light in strange ways, making his sneer appear even more grotesque. "Should've known," he muttered, his voice like gravel. "Always the same, no matter the universe. Never faithful, never true."
Y/N flinched as if slapped. "That's not—I'm not—" she tried to defend herself, but what could she say? What explanation could possibly justify being caught in such an intimate embrace with Sinister while the others had fought and bled to find her?
"ENOUGH!" Mohawk Mark's voice cracked like thunder, cutting through her stammered defense. Blue energy crackled around his clenched fists, casting his rage-contorted face in eerie azure light. "Get your filthy hands off her, Sinister, or I swear I'll—"
"You'll what?" Sinister's voice was silk over steel, deadly in its softness. He shifted Y/N slightly in his arms, causing her to gasp again as she felt him still inside her. Heat flooded her cheeks anew as she realized the others could see—could hear—the evidence of their coupling. "Attack me while I'm holding her? Risk harming the very woman you claim to care so much about?"
The cave fell silent again, the air thick with unspoken threats and barely contained violence. Y/N could feel Sinister's heart beating against her chest, steady and strong, while her own thrummed like a hummingbird's wings. Every sense seemed heightened by adrenaline and shame—the musky scent of their coupling hanging in the damp air, the heat of his skin against hers, the metallic taste of fear on her tongue.
Omni Mark hadn't moved, hadn't raised his voice, but something in his stillness was more terrifying than Mohawk's explosive rage. His gaze hadn't left Y/N's face, those familiar-yet-strange eyes boring into her as if trying to read her very soul. When he spoke again, her name was a gentle command on his lips.
"Y/N," he said softly. "Come here."
Sinister's arms tightened possessively around her, powerful muscles flexing beneath torn fabric. "She's not going anywhere," he growled, all traces of playfulness gone from his voice. His tone dropped to something darker, more primal. "She's mine now."
"She belongs to no one," Viltrumite Mark interjected, his authoritative tone echoing off the stone walls. He took another step forward, white suit gleaming like a beacon in the darkness. "Least of all you, Sinister."
Y/N found her voice at last, forcing herself to meet the gazes of the men who had, in their own ways, fought to find her. "Please," she whispered, the single word cracking with emotion. "Just... give me a moment."
To her surprise, she felt Sinister's grip loosen slightly. She placed her palms against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her fingertips. "Let me down," she requested quietly, her eyes meeting his. Something flickered across his face—an emotion too complex to name, too brief to analyze.
"Don't do this, sweetheart," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear. There was something in his voice she'd never heard before—a vulnerability that cut through his usual arrogance. "You know what's happening between us is real. You felt it too."
The unexpected softness in his tone sent a pang through her chest. She needed to stand on her own, to face this impossible situation with whatever dignity she could salvage.
"Please," she repeated, more firmly this time.
With a barely audible sigh, Sinister slowly, almost reluctantly, lifted her off his length, the wet muscle sliding against her entrance until finally he pulled free, his softened length thumping softly against his thigh. The wet sound of their bodies separating seemed deafening in the tense silence of the cave, drawing a visible wince from several of the variants.
He then lowered her to the ground. As their bodies separated, Y/N had to bite back a gasp at the sudden emptiness, the evidence of their passion trickling down her inner thighs. She quickly pulled the remnants of her suit together, trying to cover herself as best she could. Sinister kept his cape around her, tightening it around her shoulders to keep her covered.
The moment her feet touched the cold stone floor, Mohawk Mark lunged forward again, only to be restrained by Viltrumite Mark's iron grip on his shoulder.
"Not now," Viltrumite Mark hissed, his white-gloved hand a stark contrast against the blue and black of Mohawk's suit. "Not here."
Y/N stood on shaky legs, acutely aware of every pair of eyes fixed upon her. The weight of their collective gaze was almost crushing—some filled with hurt, others with rage, one with possessive triumph, all with a hunger that made her skin prickle with awareness. She felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with her tattered clothing—laid bare emotionally, every vulnerability on display.
"I..." she began, but what could she possibly say? How could she explain something she barely understood herself? The intensity, the connection she'd felt with Sinister in those desperate moments—was it real, or merely a product of adrenaline and fear and need?
Phantom Mark stepped forward, his masked face tilted slightly as if in concern. "Are you hurt?" The simple question held layers of meaning, and Y/N felt a rush of gratitude for his understated compassion.
"No," she answered truthfully, finding her voice at last. "I'm not hurt."
"Then it's true?" Mohawk Mark's voice was raw, scraped thin by emotion. "You wanted this? Wanted him?" He spat the last word like poison, his gaze darting to Sinister with naked hatred.
Sinister remained unnaturally still, his yellow and black suit torn but his posture defiant, almost regal in its arrogance. He watched the exchange with hooded eyes, his satisfaction at the discord he'd sown evident in the slight curl of his lips.
Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself. "What happened between us was... complicated." She chose her words carefully, acutely aware of the thin ice she was treading. "I was confused, scared... alone." 
"You weren't alone!" Mohawk Mark exploded, breaking free of Viltrumite Mark's restraining grip. "We were coming for you! We tore Angstrom apart to find you!"
"I didn't know that!" Y/N shot back, surprise at her own vehemence momentarily overriding her embarrassment. "I thought I was stranded here! I thought—" She broke off, the enormity of the situation crashing down on her anew.
The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the lingering heat of passion still thrumming through her veins. She felt torn between worlds—between the variants who had searched for her, who had worried for her, and the one who had claimed her so thoroughly.
Omni Mark's voice broke the silence, calm and measured but with an underlying current of steel. "We're leaving. All of us." His gaze swept over the assembled variants, lingering significantly on Sinister. "We have unfinished business with Angstrom."
Sinister's lip curled into a sneer. "By all means," he drawled, gesturing toward the portal with mock courtesy. "Don't let me keep you."
"You're coming too," Viltrumite Mark stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Unless you want to be trapped in this dimension forever."
A flicker of calculation passed over Sinister's face before his features settled back into smug confidence. "As entertaining as this little pocket dimension has been," he said, his gaze sliding meaningfully to Y/N, "I suppose all good things must come to an end."
Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks again, but before she could respond, Omni Mark was beside her. With surprisingly gentle hands, he wrapped his cape around her shoulders, covering her torn suit. His touch was light, almost tender—a stark contrast to the cold fury still evident in the rigid set of his shoulders.
"Let's go," he said softly, his eyes holding hers for a moment before he glanced back at the others. "The portal won't stay stable forever."
As if on cue, the edges of the swirling vortex flickered, casting jagged shadows across the cave walls. The emerald light pulsed once, twice, a warning of its impending collapse.
Y/N stepped toward it, but a hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to find Sinister Mark standing close—too close—his eyes burning with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"This isn't over," he murmured, his voice for her ears alone. "What we shared? That was real, Y/N. More real than anything these pale imitations could offer you." His gaze flicked dismissively toward the other variants before returning to her face. "Remember that when they try to make you forget."
Before she could respond, Mohawk Mark was there, physically inserting himself between them. "Back off," he snarled, nose to nose with Sinister. "You've done enough damage."
Sinister's laugh was soft and knowing. "Have I?" he asked, eyes still locked on Y/N over Mohawk's shoulder. "Or have I merely shown her what she truly wants?"
Mohawk's fist shot out with blinding speed, but Sinister was faster, catching it mid-swing with casual ease. The impact created a small shockwave that stirred the dust around them. "Careful now," he warned, voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself in front of her, would you?"
The tension between them was a living thing, coiling and snapping in the space between their bodies. Y/N could almost taste the violence brewing, metallic and sharp on her tongue.
"Stop it," she said, her voice stronger than she felt. "Both of you. This isn't helping."
To her surprise, Mohawk immediately backed down, though his eyes still burned with barely contained rage. Sinister released his fist with a mocking little pat.
"After you," Sinister gestured toward the portal, his smile all teeth and challenge.
One by one, they stepped through the swirling vortex—Phantom Mark first, then Emperor and No-Mask Mark, followed by Prisoner Mark with his perpetual scowl. Viltrumite Mark hesitated, looking back at Y/N with an unreadable expression before disappearing into the emerald light.
Omni Mark guided Y/N forward with a gentle hand at the small of her back. The contact was minimal yet somehow anchoring, his presence steady and reassuring amid the chaos. As they approached the portal, Y/N felt a strange reluctance, as if crossing this threshold would force her to face realities she wasn't ready to confront.
"It'll be alright," Omni Mark murmured, seeming to sense her hesitation. His red and gray suit gleamed in the pulsing light, his expression unexpectedly gentle. "We'll figure this out. Together."
Y/N nodded, gathering her courage. She stepped into the portal, feeling the strange, electric sensation wash over her skin. The last thing she saw before the alien world dissolved around her was Mohawk Mark and Sinister Mark locked in a silent battle of wills, neither willing to turn their back on the other.
Then the world twisted, stretched, compressed, and she was falling through emerald infinity, Omni Mark's solid presence beside her the only anchor in the void.
As the portal whisked them back to the Main Universe, Y/N couldn't help but wonder: What would happen now? What would she return to? And more importantly—how could she face eight variations of the same man, all of whom now looked at her differently—some with hurt, others with betrayal, one with possessive triumph, and all with a hunger that threatened to consume her whole?
The multiverse had fractured around her, and she was caught in the cracks—pulled in too many directions at once. And somewhere deep inside, past the confusion and shame and uncertainty, a tiny voice whispered a truth she wasn't ready to acknowledge: she had enjoyed every moment of her time with Sinister Mark, and part of her—a wild, reckless part she barely recognized—longed for more.(Greedy ahh🧟‍♀️)
As the emerald light engulfed her completely, she closed her eyes against that dangerous truth and surrendered to the portal's pull, letting it carry her back to face whatever waited on the other side.
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The portal spat them out into Angstrom's laboratory with a violent surge of emerald energy, scorching the air with the acrid scent of dimensional displacement. Y/N stumbled forward, her vision swimming with ghostly afterimages, the world tilting dangerously beneath her feet. Where the alien cave had been primal and raw, Angstrom's base assaulted her senses with clinical sterility—recycled air that tasted like metal shavings against her tongue, harsh lights that burned her retinas after the dim cavern.
Lensless Mark stood frozen at the control panel, his fingers suspended over bloodied keys. Crimson droplets fell with rhythmic precision onto the console below, each one leaving a perfect circle of accusation. The mask that framed his face without the characteristic goggles made his expression more visible—his eyes widened fractionally as the group materialized, pupils contracting to pinpoints when they locked onto Y/N's disheveled form.
"Fuck, you actually found her," he said, a smile tugging his lips despite the brutality evident in his surroundings.
Around him lay the aftermath of systematic destruction—security drones dismantled with surgical precision, their components arranged in almost artistic patterns across the floor. Circuitry still occasionally sparked with dying electricity, brief flashes that illuminated the darker corners of the chamber.
The reinforced interrogation chair at the center stood as testament to their methods—metal warped from superhuman force, restraints torn clean from their moorings, trailing like severed arteries. Dark splatter patterns decorated the walls and floor. Angstrom's recent suffering painted in biological abstracts that would make a forensic analyst weep.
Mohawk Mark shouldered his way through the group, a rolling wave of barely contained violence. His face transformed with each step—veins pulsing beneath his skin like living things seeking escape, jaw muscles bulging as if trying to crack through bone, eyes so bloodshot they appeared to be bleeding from within.
"You fucking piece of—" The words dissolved into something primal, something that predated language altogether, as he lunged toward Sinister Mark who just walked through.
Viltrumite Mark's arm shot out with precision, catching Mohawk across the chest before he could complete his charge. "Not here," he commanded, his voice carrying the weight of imperial decree.
The pristine white of his suit remained untouched by the surrounding carnage, as if blood itself feared to stain such perfection. A single muscle twitched beneath his left eye—the only betrayal of the emotions raging beneath his composed exterior.
Y/N couldn't tear her gaze from Sinister as he materialized last, walking through peacefully despite Mohawk's comment, the portal closing behind him with a sound like reality tearing.
His yellow and black suit hung from his powerful frame in calculated shreds, the fabric somehow enhancing rather than diminishing his presence. He'd recovered his signature black lenses from somewhere, the opaque darkness hiding his eyes while doing nothing to mask the triumphant curl of his lips. Most jarring was the deliberate display of his exposed manhood—a trophy of conquest, a calculated provocation that sent fresh heat rushing to Y/N's cheeks.
Her body's traitorous response was immediate—memory flooding her with sense impressions of his skin against hers, his weight, his scent, the way he had filled her so completely.
She clutched Omni Mark's cape tighter around herself, suddenly hyperaware of how the fabric caught against the tender places where Sinister's passion had marked her.
Omni Mark's arm remained steady around her waist, his calm presence a stark contrast to the chaos erupting around them. Unlike the others, his face remained a mask of perfect composure, only his eyes behind those dark lenses betraying the storm within—possessive rage tempered by genuine concern, calculating intelligence shadowed by something deeper, something almost tender when his gaze fell on her.
"You need to rest," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. His fingers tightened slightly at her waist, steadying her when her legs threatened to give way.
Phantom Mark stepped toward Sinister, movements fluid and deliberate. He tore a piece of fabric from a fallen drone's banner and thrust it toward him. "Cover yourself," he ordered, voice distorted through his mask yet vibrating with barely contained violence. "Or I remove it permanently."
Sinister's laugh echoed off the metal walls, a sound like broken glass being ground underfoot. "Jealous?" he taunted, making no move to cover himself. "Or afraid she'll make comparisons none of you will survive?"
Mohawk Mark's control shattered like thin ice beneath a hammer blow. He broke free of Viltrumite's restraint with an explosive surge of strength, launching himself across the room with a bestial roar that seemed to vibrate the very molecules of the air. His body collided with Sinister's with force enough to dent the reinforced metal wall. The impact knocked Sinister's head back with a crack that should have been fatal to any normal being, blood spraying in a fine crimson mist from his split lip.
Yet even as rivulets of scarlet traveled down his chin, staining the yellow of his suit dark orange, Sinister's smile only widened, revealing teeth smeared red.
"There he is," Sinister purred, voice thick with blood yet somehow more alive because of it. "The animal hiding behind the hero. Show her what you really are, Mohawk. Show her the monster that got your Y/N killed."
The words struck with precision, finding Mohawk's deepest wound and twisting. His fist connected with Sinister's jaw—not in blind rage but with calculated force meant to shatter bone. The sound reverberated through the chamber like a gunshot. Sinister's head snapped sideways, but instead of breaking, he absorbed the blow with unnatural resilience, his equal strength matching Mohawk's fury.
"ENOUGH!" Viltrumite Mark's voice cracked like thunder, the air itself seeming to compress under the sound. He moved with impossible speed, one hand clamping around Mohawk's throat while the other seized Sinister's shoulder with force that would have pulverized normal bone. "One more word," he hissed at Sinister, his composed façade finally fracturing to reveal something ancient and terrible beneath, "and I tear out your tongue."
Sinister's only response was to spit a mouthful of blood directly at Viltrumite's immaculate white suit. The scarlet droplets bloomed like grotesque flowers against the pristine fabric, each one a declaration of war.
Y/N's legs finally surrendered beneath the weight of exhaustion and trauma. She swayed dangerously, the sterile room spinning around her in nauseating circles. Omni Mark's grip tightened instantly, his support unwavering.
Unlike the others whose emotions exploded outward in violence, Omni's rage burned cold and precise. His face remained eerily composed, but his eyes behind those black lenses contained universes of complex emotion—calculating intelligence overlaying a possessive fury that bordered on madness, genuine concern that seemed almost foreign on features so similar to Sinister's, and beneath it all, a depth of feeling that made her breath catch.
"You need to clean up and rest," he murmured again, his voice a velvet rumble against her ear. The gentleness of his touch contrasted so starkly with the violence saturating the air that it nearly broke her.
Y/N nodded weakly, suddenly desperate to escape the suffocating testosterone, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the lingering musk of sex still clinging to her skin. "I need to shower," she whispered, the simple request utterly inadequate against the magnitude of what had happened.
Lensless Mark jerked his blood-spattered chin toward a corridor branching from the main chamber. "Quarters down there. Showers too." His voice carried a strange duality—childlike enthusiasm wrapped around sadistic knowledge, his eyes never leaving her face as if memorizing her dishevelment. Unlike when they'd first met, when he'd tried to kill her seeing only a ghost of his lost love, now his gaze held something more complex—a reluctant recognition of her as someone distinct, someone real.
Phantom Mark stepped forward, his masked form interposing itself between Y/N and the others. "I'll show her," he said, the modulator in his mask unable to disguise the protective edge in his voice. His shoulders formed a living barrier, his stance a silent promise of violence should anyone object.
Emperor Mark, who had been observing the unfolding drama with regal detachment, finally spoke. His imperial sigil caught the harsh light as he moved, casting knife-edged shadows across his face. "And leave her alone with another variant?" His lip curled with aristocratic disdain. "Haven't we learned that lesson already?"
Phantom's hands curled into fists at his sides, tension radiating from him in almost visible waves. "Unlike some," he replied, cold fury evident even through the mask's filter, "I remember what honor means."
Before the situation could escalate further, Prisoner Mark spat on the floor with deliberate aim, the glob landing with perfect precision near Sinister's bare foot. The scarred tissue of his face pulled tight across his skull as he sneered, burn tissue twisting into a grotesque parody of expression. His eyes, set deep in pockets of scar tissue, gleamed with malevolent intelligence.
"Honor? With these animals?" He gestured at Sinister with contempt, flakes of dead skin drifting from his movement like macabre confetti. "We ripped Angstrom apart piece by fucking piece to find her, and he was busy ripping apart something else entirely."
The crude comment sent another wave of shame washing over Y/N. She pulled away from Omni Mark's supportive arm, drawing whatever shreds of dignity remained around her like armor. The cape felt suddenly heavy, burdened with too many implications.
"I don't need an escort," she stated, voice stronger than she felt. "Just tell me where to go."
No-Mask Mark stepped forward, his exposed face—so like Mark's yet hollowed from within by grief—meeting her gaze directly. Where the others wore variations of masks with lenses to hide themselves, his naked features revealed everything—the raw pain, the longing for something irretrievably lost, the flicker of hope her existence had rekindled.
"Third door on the left," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of understanding. "The facilities are basic, but private."
Gratitude washed through her. "Thank you," she whispered, the simple courtesy a lifeline amid the chaos.
As she turned to leave, Sinister's voice slithered after her, wet with blood yet still dripping with smug satisfaction. "Running away so soon, dove? Don't you want to tell them how good it felt?" He finally reached for the scrap of fabric Phantom had offered, wrapping it around his exposed member with deliberate slowness, his movements a mockery of modesty.
"How you screamed my name when you came?"
The silence that followed was absolute, heavy with the promise of violence. Y/N couldn't bear to turn around, couldn't face the expressions that would be carved into faces so similar yet so different. Instead, she moved forward on unsteady legs, clutching Omni Mark's cape around her like a shield.
Behind her, she heard a sickening crunch followed by a wet gurgle. She didn't look back to see which variant had landed the blow, didn't pause to witness the fresh spray of crimson. She simply kept walking, one foot in front of the other, until the corridor swallowed her and the sounds of conflict faded into muted echoes.
The hallway stretched before her, utilitarian and cold. Overhead lights buzzed with intermittent electricity, casting her shadow in broken fragments against the metal floor. Each step sent painful reminders through her body—muscles used in ways both violent and intimate, skin still bearing the ghost of Sinister's grip, the core of her aching with a confusion of shame and lingering pleasure.
The door marked 'Q-3' slid open at her approach with a pneumatic hiss that reminded her of a predator's exhalation. Inside, a spartan room greeted her—narrow bed with military corners, metal desk bolted to the floor, a single chair that would offer no comfort. A doorway to the side revealed glimpses of a compact bathroom. It wasn't luxury, but it was sanctuary—a momentary respite from the storm of masculine rage and desire swirling outside.
Y/N let Omni Mark's cape fall to the floor, the heavy fabric pooling around her feet like spilled blood. She stared down at herself—at the tattered remnants of her suit, at the purpling marks forming on her skin where Sinister's fingers had dug into her flesh, at the dried evidence of their coupling still visible on her inner thighs. The sight sent fresh waves of conflicting emotion crashing through her—shame and lingering arousal battling for dominance, confusion and a terrible clarity warring in her mind.
She moved to the bathroom on unsteady legs, unable to bear her own skin a moment longer. The light flickered on automatically, harsh and unforgiving, revealing her reflection in the small mirror above the sink. A stranger stared back—hair wild and tangled, eyes huge and haunted in her pale face, lips swollen from brutal kisses. Whisker burn reddened her neck and chest, mapping the trail of Sinister's mouth across her body like a crimson road map of their shared depravity.
Y/N turned away from her reflection, unable to face the evidence of what she'd become—or perhaps, more terrifyingly, what she'd always been beneath the surface. The shower sputtered to life with reluctant obedience, lukewarm water at best, but she stepped under the spray without complaint. She watched as the physical reminders of Sinister washed away, swirling down the drain in pale rivulets tinged with pink where his rough handling had broken skin.
As steam rose around her, Y/N finally surrendered to the storm inside her. A sob tore from her throat, the sound bouncing off the tile walls before being swallowed by the running water. It was followed by another, and another, until she was on her knees in the shower stall, arms wrapped around herself as if she might physically hold the broken pieces together.
Outside in the corridor, Phantom Mark had followed and stood silent sentinel, his masked face betraying nothing of the anguish within. He heard each sob through the thin walls, each one cutting deeper than any physical wound. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, the only outward sign of his inner turmoil. He had failed her—they all had. But while the others fought over her like wolves over prey, he would stand guard, offering what little protection he could in a world gone mad.
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Chaos had erupted. Mohawk Mark had Sinister pinned against the wall, one hand at his throat while the other formed a fist streaming with his own blood—evidence of knuckles split open from repeated impact against Sinister's unyielding form. Despite the ferocity of the assault, Sinister remained largely intact, his enhanced durability matching Mohawk's rage. His face showed signs of the battle—split lip, darkening bruise along his jaw, a trickle of blood from his nostril—but his smile remained, a deliberate provocation.
"Is this..." Sinister taunted, voice thick with contempt despite Mohawk's crushing grip on his throat, "...the best...you can do?"
Mohawk screamed—a primal sound of pure rage—and slammed his fist into Sinister's face again. Though the blow would have collapsed the skull of a normal human, Sinister merely took it, his head snapping back before returning to position, that infuriating smile still in place.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" Mohawk roared, spittle flying from his lips as he drew back for another blow. "I'LL FUCKING TEAR YOU APART!"
Viltrumite Mark moved with blinding speed, wrapping his arms around Mohawk from behind in a restraining bear hug. "Enough!" he commanded, muscles straining as he struggled to contain Mohawk's berserk strength. "This solves nothing!"
"LET ME GO!" Mohawk thrashed in Viltrumite's grip, head thrown back in animal fury. "HE TOUCHED HER! HE PUT HIS FUCKING HANDS ON HER!"
"And killing him will change that?" Emperor Mark asked coldly from where he stood, arms crossed over his chest, eyes calculating. "Will it erase what happened? Will it make her choose you instead?"
Mohawk's struggles slowed, his breathing ragged as Emperor's words penetrated his rage. "She was mine," he whispered, voice breaking. "In my world, she was always mine."
"She's not your Y/N," No-Mask Mark said quietly, his unmasked features twisted with a pain that echoed Mohawk's own. "None of them were ever ours. Not really."
Prisoner Mark laughed bitterly, the sound scraping like metal on stone. He ran a hand over his burned scalp, flakes of dead skin drifting to the floor. "Keep telling yourself that," he muttered. "Keep pretending we're not all just trying to replace what we've lost."
Sinister, still pinned to the wall but no longer being actively beaten, managed to grin through blood-stained teeth. "At least I'm honest," he said, voice rich with satisfaction. "I wanted her. I took her. No pretending she's someone else."
Omni Mark, who had been eerily silent throughout the exchange, finally moved. With deliberate slowness, he approached Sinister, his steps measured, his face a mask of calm that didn't reach his eyes. Those eyes—they burned with something ancient and terrible, a controlled fury that made even Mohawk's berserker rage seem childish in comparison.
"Do you love her?" Omni asked, voice so quiet it forced everyone to still their breathing to hear him.
Sinister stared back, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his cracked lenses. Blood touched the corner of his mouth as he tried to speak, then thought better of it, settling for a mocking half-shrug instead.
Omni nodded as if the non-answer confirmed something. "I thought not."
Without warning, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Sinister's throat where Mohawk's had been moments before. With surgical precision, he began to squeeze, watching dispassionately as Sinister's breathing became labored.
"You took something precious," Omni continued conversationally as if they were discussing the weather rather than committing murder. "Something irreplaceable. Not from us—from her." His fingers tightened incrementally, the tendons in his forearm standing out like cables beneath his skin. "Her trust. Her sense of safety. Her ability to choose freely."
For the first time, Sinister's smugness faltered. His hands gripped Omni's wrist, genuine effort showing as he fought against the only variant whose strength truly matched his own. Behind his cracked lenses, something flashed in his eyes—not fear, exactly, but perhaps the first glimmer of respect.
"I should kill you for that alone," Omni mused, his voice still terrifyingly calm. "But death would be too merciful." With a soft grunt he released his grip, stepping back as Sinister sagged slightly, his breathing harsh but controlled.
"We need him," Lensless Mark pointed out. Blood spattered his face in an almost artistic pattern, his eyes wide and gleaming with dangerous curiosity. "At least until we figure out how to navigate the multiverse without Angstrom."
"Speaking of," Viltrumite Mark interjected, finally releasing his hold on Mohawk, who stood trembling with suppressed rage but no longer actively violent. "We have unfinished business with our portal-creating friend."
Emperor Mark's lip curled with disdain as he gazed down at Sinister's somewhat disheveled form. "Get him cleaned up," he ordered, as if commanding royal servants rather than dangerous interdimensional variants of himself. "And for god's sake, find him pants that stay closed."
No-Mask Mark moved reluctantly to help Sinister to his feet, his unmasked face a study in conflicted disgust. "Come on," he muttered, hauling Sinister's arm over his shoulder. "Let's get you patched up before we deal with Angstrom."
Sinister's laugh was dark and knowing as he allowed himself to be supported. "Such... gentlemen," he mocked, wiping blood from his chin with the back of his hand. "No wonder... she preferred... a real man."
Mohawk lunged forward again with a snarl, but Viltrumite was faster, stepping between them with arms outstretched. "Enough," he commanded, voice laced with deadly promise. "Save your strength for what matters."
"And what exactly matters?" Prisoner Mark asked bitterly, his scarred face contorted in a sneer. "Getting home to worlds we've already destroyed? Finding new dimensions to ruin? Fighting over a woman who isn't ours to claim?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with implications none of them wanted to face. They stood frozen in tableau—bloody and broken and lost, versions of the same man twisted by grief and rage and power, united only by their shared obsession with a woman who carried the face of their greatest loss.
Omni Mark broke the tension, his voice cutting through the weighted silence. "What matters is what comes next," he stated simply, his natural authority drawing all eyes to him. "And to determine that, we need information only Angstrom has."
Emperor Mark nodded in agreement, his regal bearing reasserting itself as he moved toward the corridor leading to Angstrom's holding cell. "To Angstrom, then," he declared.
"And afterward..." His gaze swept over the assembled variants, lingering on each face. "Afterward, we decide what we truly want—and what we're willing to sacrifice to get it."
As they moved toward Angstrom's cell, the air between them vibrated with unspoken threats and fragile alliances.
They walked like warlords entering enemy territory—cautious, alert, bound by circumstance rather than trust. But the true battlefield wasn't against Angstrom or any external force. It was the emotional chasm between them, charged with jealousy, possession, grief, and desire. And at the center of that battlefield stood Y/N—catalyst, prize, and potential destroyer of their fragile equilibrium.
In her shower, as lukewarm water washed away the physical evidence of her encounter with Sinister, Y/N finally stopped crying. She rose to her feet, legs still trembling but stronger now, and turned off the water with a decisive twist. Her reflection in the small mirror was clearer now—still battered, still haunted, but somehow more her own.
She was no longer just a human experimented on by the GDA, no longer just manufactured Viltrumite muscle and bone. She was a woman with choices—terrible, difficult choices, perhaps, but hers to make nonetheless. And as she toweled her body dry, wincing at the tender spots where Sinister's passion had left its mark, Y/N made her first real choice since being thrust into this interdimensional nightmare.
She would not be their prize. She would not be their redemption. She would not be the ghost of women long dead, wearing her face and carrying her name.
She would be Y/N—survivor, fighter, and architect of her own fate.
With newfound resolve hardening inside her like crystal, she began to prepare herself to face the variants again. In Angstrom's holding cell, revelations awaited that would shatter everything she thought she knew about herself, about the variants, and about the precarious threads binding the multiverse together.
The game was changing. The players were wounded, dangerous, and desperate.
And Y/N was no longer just a piece on the board—she was a player with her own moves to make.
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Dang, I'm tired... (っ- ‸ - ς)
Hope yall are getting 8 hours of sleep, every night <3
The next chapter is going to be heavy fluff and lots of kissing.
Final: Part 10!!
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lokidjarin-7567 · 6 months ago
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Day 9: Hate Sex
Joel Miller x you
Contents: fem!reader x Joel Miller (TLOU), smut, kinda dubcon (??), not well edited
W/C: 1.4k
I love Pedro Pascal and I love Joel so here we go!!
Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3
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"Oh Joel, why are you so angry?" you muttered, watching as he gritted his teeth. You moved towards him slowly until you were a breath from his face, eyes boring into his. "It wasn't me who messed up that deal. It was my brother. I'm just the messenger…"
"Bullshit," he spat. "Tess told me you were there, and I'm inclined to believe her, not you."
"Look, if you wanted the goods so badly, you should've come yourself…"
"It was a fucking deal, and you went back on it."
"Not my choice."
"You play so fucking innocent," he muttered, venom in his tone as he moved slightly closer. "You know exactly what you're doing."
"And what's that?" The air was charged suddenly, and you couldn't help but flirt a little. You enjoyed pissing him off, and you could see his anger, but you also couldn't deny how insanely attracted you were to him—especially when he was angry.
"You're…" You edged closer again, just inches from him, and watched as he tried to get his words out, eyes scanning your face. "Trying to get a rise out of me."
"Am I?" You glanced at his lips pointedly, and he maintained the same infuriating eye contact. There was such intense hate seeping from him, and you couldn't help but smile.
"You're insufferable." You swallowed, questioning your next move, but then you glanced down to see the tent in his trousers.
"You sure about that?" He snapped, forearm against your collarbones and pressing you against the door with a force that almost winded you. You laughed at the outward display of aggression, but he cut you off as his lips smashed into yours. It was violent and instinctual, his arm moving to the base of your neck. You gasped up into the heat of his mouth as he applied some pressure there. He growled as your body responded, leg wrapping around his waist and hips grinding into his.
You couldn't breathe, his lips continuing to press against yours combined with his forearm against your neck, and it just made you buck into him more. He laughed darkly into your mouth, the taste of him frustrating you. You had started this. Teasing him. Goading him. Trying to get him to snap. And now that he had, you wanted to play hard to get, to resist him, to carry on hating him… but you couldn't. Your body was betraying you.
It wasn't until your nails dragged down his forearm that he let up, the sudden access to air making you moan just as the hot furnace of his mouth left yours and fell to the sore spot on your neck where his arm had been.
"What are you doing…" you finally managed to gasp between whimpers, hands gripping his shoulders tightly as his own pressed your hips firmly to the wall.
"Just shut up," he grumbled, pulling you harshly from the wall and pushing you towards the bed. You had been flipped over before you could say anything else, and you couldn't help but grin as you felt his hand come down across the back of your ass.
You were glad he was being ruthless. If you were being honest with yourself, you had wanted to fuck Joel for a long time— there was just something about his low, Texan drawl and slutty jeans that made you press your legs together. But you just wanted to fuck him. In this world, there was no space for relationships, just animalistic, filthy, hateful sex. You wanted to be used, to be thrown around to his liking, to be spanked and choked and slapped because if you fucked like that and never really spoke, there would be no room for feelings.
You were so caught up in the moment that you barely registered Joel's hands grabbing at your pants. With fumbling fingers, you managed to undo the button, allowing him to swiftly slip them off your ass. The cool air hit your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Without warning, his hand cracked against the soft flesh of your backside. This time, the impact was more intense, a sharp sting that radiated outward. A feral moan escaped your lips, and you instinctively pressed yourself back towards him, craving more of his touch.
The back of your thighs made contact with his own, the heat from his body seeping into yours. You could feel the hard length of his shaft pressing insistently against your folds, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to mask the sensation. Unable to resist, you ground back into him, relishing in the friction. The movement provided a slight relief from the relentless aching in your core, but it only made you want him more.
“Jesus, fuck me, Joel.” You groaned as you continued to press into him, and he just shoved you against the bed in response, leaving you face down in the sheets.
“Just shut up.” He grumbled again and you started to situate yourself. You moved to your hands and knees, how you’d assumed he’d want you, but he pressed you down and forwards, tearing off your underwear and climbing on top of you. You were completely at his mercy. His body weight was on you, you were pressed to the bed on your stomach, completely flat, only really able to lift your head. You even couldn’t see what he was doing. You should be scared. But you weren’t. For some reason, even though you fucking despised him, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Well, not without reason.
There was no warning as he grabbed you roughly by your hips, so tight it was painful, slightly pulling them up and positioning you just right before sheathing himself into you completely in one swift, merciless thrust. The noise that was pulled from your throat was primal and unrestrained, almost a scream as every inch of his think member sunk into your core. He was big, so much bigger than you expected, and the sudden intrusion left you aching and gasping for air. You ached from taking all of him so quickly, but it was a good ache, a delicious fullness that had you seeing stars as he hit that perfect spot inside you. His own groan was addictive, deep and animalistic, a sound that reverberated through you. He tried to muffle it by sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder, the sharp pain making your cunt clench involuntarily around him, drawing another low growl from his throat.
He dropped your hips, one hands moving to your hair, gripping it tightly at the roots and twisting, forcing your head down against the bed. His other hand remained planted firmly beside you, supporting his weight as he loomed over you. You really couldn’t move now, hands scrabbling for purchase as he pulled out slowly, the drag of his cock against your sensitive walls almost unbearable. Then, without mercy, he slammed back into you, setting a punishing rhythm that left you gasping and whimpering beneath him. Your body was no longer your own, your total lack of composure making every sensation stronger and more devastating, every single one of your muscles turning to jelly, head spinning. You could feel the pressure building embarrassingly quickly, your impending orgasm coiling tightly in your core, and he could feel it too.
“Getting close there, doll?” He growled out, voice breathy, and you grit your teeth.
“Fuck… You… Joel..” You could barely breathe, using the last of your breath and focus to cuss him out, gasps and moans in between each word giving you away. It a few more smacks across your ass, the skin there feeling red raw and he grabbed the soft flesh, using it as a handle almost to pull you back into his hips. It worked, and within moments you had locked up, pussy pulling him further into you as pleasure washed over you. It was white hot, skin tingling all over as he continued to fuck you through it.
You were shaking by the time you were done, every thrust into you sending jolts through your body of building pleasure and overstimulation.
“Joel…” you muttered, a pathetic whine that escaped before you could catch it.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He moaned sarcastically. “You feeling sensitive?”
It was going to be a long night.
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endereies · 5 months ago
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MOVIE NIGHT - CS
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No Nut November - Day 9
NNN Masterlist...
-➤ You and Chris relaxing and watching a film together
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You and Chris had gotten settled on the sofa together while the tv was shining over the pair of you while it displayed a film you’d seen before. All the lights were turned off and the smell of fresh sweet and salty popcorn filled your senses. A fluffy blanket covered the majority of your body while Chris just sat next to you in one of his larger hoodies These moments happened less than you both wanted, with both of your schedules colliding. However, when they did happen, you both settled into each other’s company quickly, unwinding from the week just gone.
The longer the movie plays, you take notice of his movements towards you. Even with your legs touching, he needed more of the person he loved. In his mind the film had been long abandoned, and his attention drew to the way the film cast a soft glow to your face. Your cheekbones were slightly more accentuated, your eyes had gained a little more sparkle, and a dusting of blush covered the tip of your nose. He just couldn’t stop admiring you. Chris loved the simple things about you especially the way your nose twitched whenever he made popcorn to share. He was just so drawn you, and he had no control.
After a while of Chris inching closer, his chin laid on your shoulder. You were used to Chris being close to you, but after realising how much he moved, you giggled in confusion.
“Chris...? Whatcha doing...” He didn’t utter a word and just wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, his fingers rubbing back and forth where your shirt lifted. Eventually he spoke, his voice melodic and lethargic.
“Nothing, just love m’girl.” You rolled your eyes, covering the way your blush grew deeper in your cheeks.
“Are you even watching?” you questioned his behaviour subtly.
“I’m watching you, does that count.” As much as you try, you can’t seem to regain focus back on to the film and you just feel him watching you silently. He notices the way you react, quickly commenting on it.
“Sorry baby, you’re just adorable what can I say?” Chris smiles softly, drawing one hand up to run through your hair, pushing back a few strands so he can see you better.
“Chris. You’re actually a dork.” A few pieces of popcorn shovel into your mouth, distracting you from his sweet comments. You couldn’t help but blush whenever he spoke about you. His words lulled you further into your emotions and he somehow always knew what to say.
“You love it” he leant his head forwards slightly and glanced quickly at your lips. “May I?”
With a nod from you as permission, he closed the remaining amount of distance and shyly kissed you. A satisfied hum leaves him which makes you smile into the kiss. You both kept it mild yet tender and when he pulled back, he stared into your eyes, a stupid grin on his face.
“I love you, you know that right?” In that moment, everything faded away. You knew he loved you and yet you still found yourself acting like a high-school kid with their first crush when he said it to you. “I love you too Chris.”
He leant back to his original position, not before grabbing a handful of the now cold popcorn and shovelling it into his mouth.
“Babe? Can you rewind it? I was not paying attention…”
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@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03
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© ENDEREIES 2024
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astroboots · 2 years ago
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Omg please continue with the Miguel fang prompt!!! It’s too cruel to stop there!!!!!
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HIDE AND SEEK
Summary: Miguel and you plays hide and seek.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Content: Hunter predator kink (I think that's what we're calling it?) anyway explicit. Miguel is a bit rough.
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
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It's all too easy to get lost in the crowd in a city as crowded as New York. You slip in among a throng of tourist standing around like a flock of pecking hens, their faces dipped down at their phones, huddled over google maps as they try to figure out how to get to Broadway as if it's not within goddamn walking distance, right down the street.
In a nervous habit, you fiddle with the watch on your wrist. Your eyes flick over the bright light that tells you it's 11:28pm.
Which means, there's still 32 minutes left.
God this is the slowest hour you've ever lived through in your life.
You squeeze yourself in the back, behind a woman with a large hat and larger sunglasses, even though it's evening and the sky is near black. The only things left illuminating the sky now is glaring shop signs, aggressive LED lights, and the mega-spectacular ads display that is brighter than the goddamn sun.
Peering over the madness of the crowd, you try to spot the familiar sight of his all too recognizable build looming over everyone else.
But there's nothing.
He's not here. You let out a long held in breath, your chest sagging with relief. Of course he wouldn't be here.
Times Square has over 300,000 visitors passing through every day. 300,000 sweaty, exhausted individuals drenched in perfume and deodorant that would make it impossible to pick up your scent. Thousands of people speaking all at once, over the angry noise of honking traffic that would make it impossible, even for him, to pick up the sound of your distinct footfall.
No, He won't be able to catch you here. That's why you came here after all.
You glance down at your watch again. 11:31.
Shit! How has only three minutes gone by?
Shaking your head, you look up at the sea of people.
You'd better get moving. Even in a crowd, if you stay still for too long, it won't be safe.
Walking briskly down the wide street, it's a struggle to squeeze through the ever moving crowd as the glaring lights change from makeup ads to theater marquees. You're peering over your shoulder with every three steps you take, constantly expecting the familiar sight of his messy curls to peek out a foot above the crowd.
He's so damn tall there's no fucking way you'll miss him if he's found you. You'll get plenty of advance warning, you reassure yourself as you continue to move forward.
Your eyes settle over your watch again.
11:46. Fuck you sideways.
You know you shouldn't keep checking it every two seconds like this, because all it serves to do, is to ratchet up your blood pressure so high you're going to need to start taking medication for it.
How is time moving so slow. You shake your head in exasperation, and for a fraction of a second you swear you see it.
A flash of unmissable dark navy glowing with red.
You freeze. Your back feels like ice, cold damp sweat breaking out along your spine. You snap your eyes back but there's nothing there now. Nothing but an anonymous crowd.
What the-- How could he have just disappeared into thin air?
He's 6 feet and fucking 9 inches. Taller than your refrigerator back in your tiny studio apartment. The top of his head beats out your fucking Christmas tree. If he was here, he'd be impossible to miss. You don't fucking miss a giraffe when you visit the Brooklyn Zoo, so why are you having such a fucking hard time spotting him? How the fuck does he move so inconspicuously?
Was it just your imagination?
You glance at your watch: 11:46. Gotta be kidding. Is time standing still now? Has it just decided to stop moving altogether?
You force yourself to step forward and ignore how your knees seems to cave at your own weight as you sink into the pavement with every step.
In the corner of your eyes you spot him. Clearly this time. Real. Not a figment of your imagination. He's only a few steps away from you. The familiar pair of glowing scarlet eyes fixed on you.
Oh fuck, shit. Shit! Your heart races at the sight, beating so hard you think you feel it in your lungs. You're already sprinting in the opposite direction without thought and the only thing guiding you is the pure impulse to escape.
You push through the crowd, sprinting forward without taking in your surroundings. All you care about is to get away as your gaze is fixed on your watch.
11:52. Eight more minutes. You just need to stay away for eight more minutes.
You keep running as the crowd seems to thin, and the colorful lights and noise of traffic fades away. Then you finally stop, catching your breath to look up at your surroundings.
It's empty and void of people. A large empty van is blocking the narrow alley from view of the main street, and there's an unlocked gate that you've come through.
On the other side from where you've come from there's a tall bricked up wall as far as the eye can see-- a dead end.
How the fuck did you manage to find the only deserted dead end alleyway in central New York?
Shit you need to get out of here, you won't be able to run away if you're trapped here.
You glance one more time at your watch.
11:57. Three minutes. 180 seconds. It's all you need and then you'll win.
You turn your heel back towards the gate. But it's too late.
The dim light of the alley is eaten up by a large and imposing shadow.
He's already here.
The familiar navy blue and the menacing red sprawled across his chest fills your vision, blocking your only path to escape. All you see is red eyes glowing so bright it lights up the dark alley with it.
"Time's up," he says, mouth curled into a mocking smile so wide that you can see his fangs peek out from his upper lip.
That's when you realize you are well and fully trapped like the helpless prey you are in his spider's web. You're right where he wants you.
God you're so damn stupid. You were safe in the crowd. But one sight of him had you spooked and running into the only alley to be found in all of New York.
Shit.
He'd planned this all along. The bastard's must've been the one who opened the gate. And you had ran in here like some scared witless rabbit straight into his trap.
You could try to escape him. Some vain, silly leftover pride in you, is adamant that you still have at least two whole minutes to get away.
He steps closer, and you can't help but instinctively step back as he does.
You know it's a game. Know that he would never hurt you, but that hungry and predatory red glow in his eyes has fear spiking along your spine all the same.
"Miguel, wai--"
The rest of your futile plea dies in your throat. His broad palm covers your mouth and jaw, and even your startled squeak is muffled into silence as he presses you up against the wall.
You whimper into his hand, but he doesn't relent. Doesn't ease up, even as he leans down and hushes you. Despite the soothing tone he uses with you, it isn't comforting at all. It drips with condescension as he press his lips to your bare throat.
"I'm gonna take my prize now, nena," he murmurs into your skin and because your brain is broken, with no sense for survival instincts, every part of you tingles at the amused threat in his voice.
"You promised remembered?" He reminds you.
And of course you do. It's hard not to, when the bastard's got you pinned against a brick wall in an abandoned alley like something out of a horror movie.
Fuck. He's taken this way too seriously. You don't know why you had suggested the world's dumbest hide and seek with this competitive and unreasonable man.
He presses you into the hard brick behind you, like there's anywhere left for you to go. And you can feel it. The proof of his excitement pressing up against your stomach, pinning you against the wall. He's hard.
Any residual resentment at your loss gives way for excitement when you feel his cock twitch and jerk against you.
The edge of his teeth rests on your bare shoulder as goosebumps breaks across your skin, and you feel dizzy. Anticipation swirls in your stomach with an intoxicating warmth.
You can't fucking breathe.
His hand snakes up your dress, wedging your panties to the side, until you can hear the fabric rip and tear. Shit, you're going to kill him for that.
The thick head of his cock presses in and stretches you open, as he forces his way inside of you, in time with his sharp and whetted fangs sinking into your flesh. Electricity pings across your nerves, sweet and euphoric and you feel drunk with it.
He's filling you, inch by hard and relentless inch, until you swear you can feel him lodged in your stomach. You feel so fucking full. Full of Miguel until nothing else fits anymore, but he doesn't stop.
His cock nudges along an impossibly deep spot inside you that has you losing orientation and makes the space around you spin, and he's still not fully inside.
White blinding pleasure streaks through your every nerve and crowds your vision, as he sinks you down further on him, until your vision goes blank. He's so fucking big. Always is no matter how many times you take him like this.
Pleasure pool with heat in your stomach as he holds you in place, impaled on the thickness of him.
Your limbs go boneless, unable to hold up your own weight, and for a moment you're not sure if that's the venom released to your bloodstream or just the effect he has on you. You only remain upright because he's propping you up with his body.
His mouth skims along your throat, dragging his teeth up until his fangs tease along the shell of your ear, with the threat of sharpness. The edge of them barely graze your skin, completely unlike the feral impatience he'd sunk into you with, as he whispers into your ear.
"Found you, Nena."
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Dedication and credits: This piece is dedicated to @foxilayde for her completely deranged (and amazing) post that had me SALIVATING. Thank you for putting this brainworm into my head. I am shooketh.
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holyparadisenightmare · 1 year ago
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It had only been a few days since your partner left for their business trip, but you were already going stir crazy. You were spending the whole day tempering your ravenous, insatiable libido. Every inch of you boiled. Toys refused to satisfy.
Climbing into the shower, it was hard not to be turned on just looking at yourself. Your erect nipples, idle playthings for your horny mind. Minutes in and all that work cleaning yourself would be undone. So you'd rinse and repeat.
In your room you found your partner's favourite set of lingerie: a matching set of black, lacey panties and a bra. It had only been a few days since you last wore them, but you could already feel yourself spill out more than usual. What were once large, but perky tits were now heavy hanging breasts that sat snug, snugger than usual, in that delicate fabric.
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Nights turned to days as you roamed your house alone. But it wasn't long before your concerns were vindicated. Your breasts had gotten larger. In fact, they continued to grow. Veins pushed their way to the surface as the skin around your tits stretched thinner.
But it wasn't the only thing growing.
You honestly thought it was just bloat. Anxious that a few days of unaccompanied eating and wanking had you gaining weight, your belly surged forward from where you were used to. But after two weeks and the bloat refusing to pass, you knew more was going on.
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Throwing on a sports bra, you tried to hide your growing tits and belly. A grey, oversized tracksuit followed over and with a pair of sunglasses the look was complete as you venture out into the world to find some clarity.
You arrived at a pharmacy. The woman at the counter greeted you as you walked in. You smiled politely but bit your lip as you saw her. She was short, a little shorter than you, chunky with a black bob. Thick in all the right ways.
Terrified, you tried to hide your arrousal and your belly.
You smiled back and asked "Can i get a pregnancy test?" your words fell away as your mumble through the last of your sentence.
"I'm sorry, i didn't quite catch that." She said with a smile that said 'i heard you but I want to make you say it out loud.'
Your face was bright red. The woman behind the counter carelessly looking you over like a piece of meat. "A pregnancy test. I need one." You conceed, pointing past her to the display behind the counter.
"Oh, I'm sorry miss." She snarked, reaching back to grab one, "I didn't think someone so far along would needs that."
Your face and pussy burnt. "H-how dare you!" You half moan at her, looking around to see if anyone had heard. You were both alone.
But before you could break into a full tyrade, you looked down at yourself for the first time since you stepped into the store. You had grown since the drive here. And you were huge. The sweat shirt did nothing to hide your size, the front pulled taught by the size of your growing belly.
You cried, "Oh my god!" Before running... well, waddling to the bathroom. You tripped and stumbled as you adjusted to your new centre of gravity. You locked the door behind you and peeled back your slowly shrinking sweat shirt.
You looked full term. 9 months pregnant. Your belly button had popped. Your ass had widened, and your belly grew so naturally from your plump form you wondered how you had ever looked without it.
As you raised your shirt to reveal yourself your hand brushed against your breasts. Its swollen flesh threatened to spill out and over your tight sports bra. You carefully pulled the bra up and over, careful not to put too much pressure on your very sore breasts. Regardless, each nipple slowly trickled beads of milk down your body.
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Your pussy craved satisfaction. It ate at you, filling your mind with fog. You were one part petrified, but 9 parts severely turned on. And what little scared you onlu turnes you on more. What if someone caught you?
With a hand you slid up and squeezes one of your engorged breasts. Milk splattered across the mirror. You moaned as you watched your reflection play with herself.
But a knock at the door brought you crashing back to earth. "Ma'am?" The clerk called from behind the door.
"Y-yeah?" Your voice hinted at the pleasure you're so desperate to return to.
"I hate to bother you. But that stall is for paying customers only. And, like I said. I dont think you need this test."
"I can't come out right now." You said back.
"Do you need help?" She asked, genuinely concerned.
You hesitsted for a moment.
"Can you get some oil, some napkins and a clean shirt? I'll pay for them!"
You could hear her voice catch at the strangle request. "O-Okay?"
Eventually she returned. You unlocked the door a crack and let her pass the items through. But in the corner of your eye, in the reflection of the window, you see her face looking back. She saw you, tits, belly and all. Her face turned bright red as she slams the backroom door shut.
Flustered your deslerately scramble to clean yourself up. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You hurridly cry.
Her voice turned into a long and uncertain "uuuhhhhh" as she tried to find the words to describe how she's feeling. "The ummm. The bathroom is kinda gross. Did yo-did you want to use the staff room?" She finally utters. "Its just me here. Perfectly safe."
You sigh. Tired, hungry and heavy, and in desperste need of being milked, you agree. Slipping the white shirt she gave you on, you couldn't deny it left little to the imagination.
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Quickly you open the door and slip awkwardly through the pharmacy. Your belly and tits swinging as you do. The wet stains around your nipples getting larger, revealing your dark areolas underneath. After what felt like an eternity of exposure you cross the threshold and slip into the backroom of the store. The clerk quickly closing in behind.
She pulls up a large office chair and gestures you to sit down. You happil oblige, resting your monsterous belly on your lap and your leaking breasts on your belly. The sigh of relief came involentarily as you thank her.
Her smile turned from carring to ceniving as she locks the door behind her. "Now we're alone, I need you to take that top off."
"E-excuse m-me?"
The pharmacist drops down to her knees and begins kissing your enormous belly. "Big girl, you're going nowhere like this. I heard the noises you made. And i know you think i'm cute. Come on." She says, lifting your struggling shirt and sweezing oil into her hands. "Be a good girl for me."
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You couldn't help but yelp at her touch, but something about her stern stare made you melt. Between your partner being gone and your sudden pregnancy, you were keen for something certain. Your body relaxed as she went.
She lifted your shirt off completely and exposed your collosal breasts. Rounded, swolen with milk, yet so large they flopped to either side of your mamoth belly. Pinned beneath it, stuck in this chair, the pharmacist had her way with you.
She dragged a tongue up your belly, around your breasts, lapping up stray milk. She sent shivered down your spine. Thrulls of pleasure followed too as she latched onto your swolen nipple. She sucked. Your nipples, raw and wanting, felt a wash of instant relief as you felt your warm milk release from its prison.
Your stray hand reached low, past your belly, in search of your pussy. You were dripping wet. You dove deep into yourself to lube up your finger and began rubbing your clit. You moaned as the gorgeous woman sucked away at your breasts, still rubbing lotion on your belly.
You quickly fell into the pit of pleasure. Your pace was steady and you begged her to keep going. With your other hand you took hold of your spare and swollen tit and squeezed. A yelp jumped from your lips. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your sprayed milk across the back room.
It wasn't long before the pleasure built to a breaking point. You tried to hunch forward but your belly got in the way. You let go of your tit and gripped the desk beside you as hard as you could as you reach climax.
For the first time in weeks you finally felt satisfied. Panting and sweating you look over at your new friend with a greatful smile. She returns the feeling.
But as you stand to leave your legs give out. Not just regular jelly legs, you look down and realise you've only gotten larger. Your belly stretches out to your knees, and your breasts fall down by your side. You can see them swelling with fresh milk. Your thighs have grown and your fat ass is stuck in the chair.
You look up helplessly at the pharmacist as she kneels down between your legs and vanished behind your belly.
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caraudioexpertaustralia0 · 5 months ago
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Headunit With Carplay For HONDA CRV 2008-2011 LOW | 9INCH
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fuck-customers · 4 months ago
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I got a doozy for ya.
I work in a sex shop, right. A high-end sex shop. We’re open until 10pm every night except Sundays. This doesn’t matter to the story really, but we’ve been low on people lately — down to a team of 3. Today was my 8th straight day of working and my 3rd time this week closing by myself, which is not supposed to happen ever. Shit is kinda rough, but we keep the store nice anyhow because we take pride in the products we sell, etc.
Anyway. The story. Couple comes in at 9:55 — we’re already off to a bad start. I hit ‘em with the ol “hey just so you know we do close in 5 minutes!” The wife tells me “oh it’s fine, he knows what he wants” so im like okay, whatever.
Cue them bringing me a bunch of different things to open at the counter and look at, because apparently they did NOT know what they wanted. The wife asks me what size underwear I think will fit her and what size will fit her husband — like im just fuckin psychic? I guess? The husband meanwhile is going to sit on our CLEARLY MARKED display couch (it literally has a sign that says “please do not touch display”) and pretend to make out with the mannequin. The husband comes up with a dildo and proceeds to freak out that the underwear (strap on boxers with an included bullet vibrator) are too expensive ($74). So the wife puts back the 3(!) sets she had grabbed, except she doesn’t put them back, she leaves them on the bottom of the merchandiser. Like?? This is not Walmart honey this is a fucking luxury shop?? Hello? You cannot act like an animal in here!
Mind you. The only reason im putting up with these people is because at first it looks like they’re going to make a big purchase (a harness, a high-quality dildo, a couple of restraints). But no, the husband wants to bitch about the prices some more. I’m like honey you were the one who wanted the 10 inch poseable dildo with lifelike skin, it’s gonna cost you more than the basic silicone would, sorry. The wife is complaining that he uses scrubbing bubbles to clean their toys (what the fuck) and then as im explaining that some soaps have silicone they’re interrupting me to tell me horrible details of their sex lives. I’m like please for the love of god can you just finish your purchase and leave.
They don’t end up getting the restraints. They get the dildo and a basic strap-on harness. Something like $97 total. By the time they check out, it’s 10:12, 2 minutes after I’m supposed to be clocked out, and I haven’t even started counting the drawer down. All told I don’t end up finishing my closing tasks and getting out to my car until 10:30, which is the time im usually at home in bed. Yayyyy.
And mind you all of this I could have handled. Whatever, some people don’t understand what “closed” means. But as if all that weren’t enough, as she’s leaving, the wife turns back to me, looks at the poster for one of our sex swings, which features 3 different sets of models, and says:
“now why is it that nowadays all of these things have to have interracial couples?”
Posted by admin Rodney
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llpurpleplaysll · 28 days ago
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All Might/Yagi Toshinori Headcanons pt2
Since I enjoyed doing the last headcanons so much I'm doing more
Some NSFW Content you have been warned! (Accidentally posted this on the wrong account LOL)
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Let's talk about how much of a lover Toshinori is:
When you and Yagi first met, which so happened to be in the teachers lounge at U.A when you helped him with one of his bloody coughing fits, the moment he locked eyes with you he felt his heart skip.
When you had offered him one of your Kleenex's he graciously took it with shaky hands, taking the time to clean himself up while also analyzing your features more thoroughly. Once he felt presentable again, he thanked you and hastily left the room to get some air.
After that day forward, he'd make sure his planning period had fell around the same time your's was. Using it as an excuse to get to know you more by any means possible.
After about a month of talking he'd learn your age (which was in the mid to late 40s, thank goodness), you love beach walks, your favorite color is red, and you owned a fairly chubby 5 year old tabby cat.
From then you both hit it off naturally, as if you'd both known each other in your past lives.
--
What you didn't know is that talking with Toshi would mean old school styled flirting.
No I don't mean just leaving notes on each others desk, and inviting each other to eat lunch together whilst trading bento boxes with one and other.
I'm talking taking you on dates and having you back in the house strictly at 9:30pm, light hugging and hand holding, gifting you roses on each date, etc.
It took the both of you at least damn near a full year of talking before he even brought the 'girlfriend-boyfriend' topic up with you. Even then he still felt it was too early. He felt he still hadn't unlocked that next step in your relationship yet.
But when he took the risk and asked: you happily obliged. (Toshinori won't admit it to you but he was full fledged ready to face rejection when he asked.) It brightened his little heart when you accepted his declaration of love.
Hell, it took him 2 months after you both called it official to even have your first kiss. Which was shared after one of your weekly weekend date nights on the beach.
While he thought doing all of these things were a bit prude it didn't bug or phase you on bit. It honestly made you more attracted
--
Moving along from that lets get into how intimate this man can get
In public Toshinori is more reserved, especially as All Might, he had to mentally restrain himself from touching you. But that didn't stop you both from sneaking each other kisses in between class.
Sexually, Toshi wasn't very much experience. Given the fact that All Might is the modern day male sex symbol, he knows little to nothing about intimacy. But boy when he finally did his own research (and asking Midnight for help on the topic) he became the best thing you ever could get.
He started out with light touches on you, and slowly began to use his fingers on you. With his fingers being long and skinny, it was easy to reach and toy with your sweet spot. But as All Might, he only had to use one finger to send you over the edge.
Eventually when the both of you reached the stage of your first time together. It was a planned day, you went and had dinner, watched movies, and showered beforehand.
When it came time, he made sure to appreciate every square inch of your body properly before you both lost your virginity to each other. It was a tender night shared between you both. Even if you did have to help him a bit at the start to become a little less self conscious with his injury on full display.
Toshi made sure that you were comfortable the entire time. Any noise of pain or any look on your face of discomfort, he'd immediately stop to check to see if you were ok.
After you both had your first time together, it was impossible for either of you to not be in each others face. For the two weeks after, every single moment you could get alone was shared with Yagi between your legs.
During one of you and Midnight's girls night, you spilled the beans and she laughed and apologized to you for creating a sexual monster.
"You know..even with him in his 50s he still has that much sexual energy is amazing! Wouldn't be surprised if he wants kids with you when Izuku gets into his junior year of high school.." "Kayama!" "Whaat? I wouldn't mind staying another couple years to teach All Might's kids."
--
Might make a pt 3 who knows
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fawtyy · 2 months ago
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Valentines Day
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Rafael Barba x fem! Reader
Warnings: established relationship, piv sex, oral (female receiving), foreplay, fluff after
Word count: 2k
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Rafael Barba stuck the key in the door, pausing and laying his forehead on the cool wood. It was 11pm, on Valentines Day, and he was supposed to be home by 8.
You told him that morning of the plans you had. Exchange gifts, have dinner that you would make, and have the best sex of your lives. It stayed on Barba's mind all day. He could barley concentrate on his work, imagining how you would look. What you would wear. Would you curled the way he liked it? Would you wear the red lingerie he bought you?
God, he hoped so.
But a new case was dropped on his desk, and he got stuck at his office. A text was sent to you at 7:30, telling you he would only be 30 minutes late. Another text was sent at 8:30, apologizing and promising he'd be there by 9, 9:30 at the latest. By 10, he didn't even bother texting you. He knew you were upset and angry, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He already bought your gift and had it bagged up at home. A beautiful diamond necklace, one that you pointed out months ago while on a trip. On his way home, he picked up a bouquet of red roses, hoping to soften the blow that he knew was coming.
Taking one last breath, he twisted the key and pushed the door open, closing and locking it behind him. Turning around, he noticed the lights in the apartment were off, but candles were everywhere, burning brightly. Placing his briefcase on the chair, he looked down to see rose petals, a path to your shared bedroom.
As he passed the kitchen, he noticed how clean it was, like it hadn't been touched. Like you hadn't cooked at all. Barba took his coat and blazer off, laying them across a table chair, before following path of petals. Stopping at the closed door, he heard soft music coming from inside. Pushing it open, his brows raised and his jaw dropped.
There you were, sitting on the end of the bed. Your hair, just like he hoped, curled around your shoulders. The red lingerie looking incredible on you, your breast on full display for him. You were leaned back on the back, your hands holding you up. His eyes trailed down your body, his tongue darting out slightly as he kept going. "Like what you see counselor?"
Rafael's eyes shot back up to your face, makeup perfectly highlighting your beautiful features. A smirk was playing across your lips, lips he couldn't wait to get his own on. "Oh, hermosa, I am blinded by your beauty right now." Your smirk turned into a smile, pushing yourself off the bed and walking towards him. His eyes followed your every move, a smirk starting to tease his lips.
"I had a feeling you wouldn't be home by 8, so I took a risk. I didn't cook and set up the apartment." His eyes looked at the bed, rose petals scattered across it. "Are those for me?"
He only then remembered the flowers in his hands, quickly holding them up for you to grab. "Indeed they are. I thought it might gain me some browny points but I can see that they weren't needed."
Nodding, you smelt them before placing them on your table. "No, but they are beautiful. I love them." Turning back to Barba, he started walking to you, taking in every inch of skin on display. "I thought you might need a stress reliever tonight."
Loosening his tie, he pulled it off while a chuckle escaped his mouth. "Cariño, I need a stress reliever every night." You grinned while he held his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. "I do believe I was promised the best sex of my life this morning. Or was that a lie too?"
Shaking your head, you pursed your lips while unbuttoning his dress shirt. "Oh, no baby. That, most definitely, was not a lie." Pushing the shirt past his shoulders, he shrugged it off, pulling the undershirt off as well.
Barba kicked his shoes off while you unbuckled his belt. He grabbed your hands, stopping your actions, causing you to become confused. "All I want you to do right now is get your pretty ass in that bed, and let me take care of you."
"But Raf-"
"Did I stutter?" You immediately stopped talking, a small smile playing along your lips. Walking to the bed, you swayed your hips, climbing onto the bed, your ass stuck in the air.
Turning over, you laid your head on the pillows, spreading your legs. "No sir, you did not."
Rafael's smirk became larger, his hands sliding his belt off and dropping on the ground. He didn't bother with his pants right now, opting to climb in the bed with you. He held himself up above you, taking in your beauty while you stared up at him. "You are breathtaking, do you know that?"
You shyly smiled. "You remind me everyday."
Smiling, Rafael leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss, going down on his forearms to get even closer. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him closer. The kiss turned more heated, your tongues fighting in your mouth, teeth clashing as you let a moan slip out.
Falling on his side, Rafael pulled you to him on your side, quickly unlatching your bra and throwing it aside. Your breasts fell, Rafael immediately pushing himself down and capturing your nipple, sucking and biting at it. "Oh fuck, Rafa..."
His hand came up, pinching and rolling the other around, causing whimpers to fall from your mouth. Stopping his assault, he began kissing down your chest, sucking and licking around your naval while he pushed back on your back. Your breathing picked up as you watched him go further and further down. Once he got to the waistband on your thong, he looked up at you, making sure.
"Rafa, please."
That was all it took. He placed open mouthed kisses around your clothed pussy. His tongue darted out, licking through the fabric. You were getting frustrated and restless, hating the teasing. Rafael leaned up some and pulled the thong down your legs, throwing it behind him. Sitting up on his knees, he took in your bare body. You were exquisite, lying there and waiting for him to ravish you. Rubbing your thighs, he met your eyes, his lids low. "I am going to ruin you for any other man, if you ever decide you'll no longer have me. Are you ready for that, hermosa?"
Smirking, you nodded. "Beyond ready, counselor."
Rafael dove in, not being able to hold himself back anymore. The first stride had you gasping for air, on hand tangling in his hair and the other gripped the sheet. He held your legs on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs. His mouth worked magic, eating like hadn't ate in weeks. He was starved and your pussy was the only thing that could please and fix that.
He added in two fingers, sucking at your clit and pulling away with a pop. He glanced up to watch you come undone. Your head was thrown back into the pillows, both hands now gripping the sheets while whimpers and moans fell from your mouth.
He pulled his mouth away while his fingers continued on, curling to hit that perfect stop. "Oh my god, oh my-fuck.."
He smiled, shaking his head. "Not god baby, not god ever. It will always be me."
Pushing and curling, he watched you release your orgasm, thighs shaking as he kept going. Your hand shot down to grab his before he gently gripped your wrist, pulling it back. Keeping his fingers in you, he pulled himself up to be face to face with you. "Who do you think you are to try and make me stop? Who's in charge here?" You couldn't stop moaning long enough to answer the question, until he paused his movements, watching your eyes open. "I asked a question."
"You Rafa, you're in charge."
He leaned down and placed light kisses on your neck. "You're goddamn right I am." It was whispered but you heard it, and it made you clench around his fingers, something he immediately noticed. "Oh, chica sucia, you are so in for it."
He placed a gentle kiss on your lips before moving back down to his knees. Unbuttoning his slacks, he slid them off, leaving him only his boxers. Sitting up, you caressed his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. One hand trailed down his neck and abdomen, stopping to play with his waistband. He pulled back for air while looking down at your sneaky hand. "Would he like some attention?"
Nodding, Rafael bit his lip to not smile too wide. "Oh, he would love some." Before slipping your hand in, you brought it back up to lick your wet tongue on your palm, watching Rafael's eyes darken with lust. You gripped the base of his cock, slowly moving your hand up and down, teasing his tip each time. "Oh fuck, Y/n..."
Hearing Rafael moan out your name filled you with pride, it did every time. His moans were always so pretty and he didn't always let them slip. "Do you like that baby?" He nodded, his face falling to the crook of your neck, lips sucking bruises that you'll have to hide the next few days. "You know what I'd like?" Feeling him shake his hand, you got close enough to whisper in his ear. "You taking away my ability to walk."
Not a second went by as he pushed you to lay back down, staring at you with hooded lids. "Ask and you shall receive, querida."
Sliding his boxers down, you watched his pretty cock spring out. Rafael wasn't just long, he was thick. You've had sex with him so many times, and it still stretches you everytime.
Rafael pulls your legs, pulling down the bed, and places your ankles on his shoulders. He took his tip, rubbing it around your slit before lining himself up. Watching your face, he slowly pushed in, inch by inch, your face scrunching up in slight pain. "Shh shh shh, mi amor, it'll all be okay." He bottomed out and you gasped slightly, gripping the sheets. "Just say when."
Waiting a few seconds, you nodded and he moved his hips back, sliding his cock along your warm, wet walls. He stopped at the tip, before slowly moving back in. After doing this for a couple strides, the pain turned into pleasure, moans spilling out. Rafael took that as his cue to speed up, causing your moans to grow louder. You clenched around his cock, causing him to hiss but keep his rhythm. "You don't come until I do."
Your moan got mixed with a whine. "Rafa I can't-"
"You can and you will." He sped up, feeling his own orgasm building up. Grabbing your thighs, he bent your legs, your knees side your ears. The new position made it even more difficult to hold off, being able to feel everything. "Fuck Y/n, how do you get tighter every time?" One of your hands gripped his forearm, nails sliding down and you tried to hold it in. Rafael was about to bust any second. "Come ángel, come around my cock."
You wanted to scream with satisfaction as your second orgasm washed over you, Rafael following behind. You felt his cum shoot and cover your gooey walls, a groan coming from his mouth as his head was thrown back. You stayed like that, both of you catching your breaths.
Rafael pulled your legs down, gently placing them on the bed as he laid on top of you. He placed light kisses along your cheek and neck, your hand mixing in his hair. "You did so good, mi amor, tan buena..."
You smiled and kissed the top of his head, rubbing his upper arm. "Happy Valentines Day, handsome."
Rafael lifted his head up, smiling as he kissed your lips. "Best day of my life."
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